Just Like a Movie
by FluffyAngst333
Summary: It's a regular world conference week until America finds England's journal, and won't give it back unless England does one simple request. Somehow, all the countries become involved in a play which gets everyone but the two clueless star lovers together.
1. Paperwork and a Phone Calls

First fanfic...yeah.

I'd like to give credit to .xX , who started the fanfic and was originally just a oneshot, but let me continue it because she is just that awesome! So the first chapter is originally hers, the rest has been written my me! Enjoy...

* * *

It was a bright and sunny day in D.C., a warm 93 degrees in June. Cars traveled past on the streets, obeying the limits like good citizens. Couples, families, and lone people strolled on the sidewalks. Once a small child tossed a Frisbee back and forth with a man presumed to be his father. A small-ish Maltese puppy wandered into a yard or two, before a woman gently picked it up and carted it away. Yes, everyone was enjoying the nice weather, taking the advantage to get some fresh air.

All except for Alfred, whom was buried in paperwork.

Yawning, the blonde peeled a paper from his forehead and tossed a glance at the clock beside the door. 6:49 P.M. Blinking, he slowly lowered his head to the paper-ridden desk and closed his eyes.

The loud ringing of the telephone jolted him from his sleep. Standing, he marched to the device and snatched it off the cradle, spitting a venomous "what?" into the talker.

"Alfred?" With that one accented word, his sleep-fogged irritablility fell from existence.

"Iggy? What are you doin', callin' me at...ah, I'unno," the blonde didn't cast an eye at the clock, for the sun was down so he figured it was fairly late.

"One, don't call me Iggy. My name is Arthur," the Brit snapped, "Two, did you finish the damn paperwork? We have a meeting tomorrow."

Blinking, Alfred eyed his desk, blue orbs dancing over the various papers littering the desk.

"Um...I'unno," he shrugged.

"'I'unno'? Good Christ, Alfred, talk like a normal person!" The American rolled his eyes and mocked the British man's voice with a hand guesture and a face. "And don't mock me!"

"So, was there any real reason you called me at this hour of...once again, I don't care..?"

"Yes, you twit! The damn papers! We need those tomorrow, you bloody moron!"

"That is not nice, considering that I have an average intelligence, the papers are almost done, and all of my blood is inside of me, thank you."

Alfred heard the older scoff. "That's not what I-"

"You know, it's not nice to insult people all the time, Iggy."

"Don't call me that, and I really just wanted to-"

"And why can't I call you that?"

"Because I said so, now let me-"

"That's not an answer."

"It is if I say it is, now let me finish tal-"

"That's stupid. 'It is if I say it is'? You aren't the boss of worldly logic, ya know."

"Alfred, let me say what I-"

"I mean, really, you shouldn't say things like that."

"Alfred, will you let me finish talki-"

"I guess, since you-"

"LET ME FINISH, GODAMMIT!"

There was no noise, as silence crackled on both ends of the call. It stayed silent, until the American broke it briefly with a quiet, "I'll be back.."

Alfred leaned against the counter, shock still lacing his bloodstream. The Brit usually was irate toward his...botherings...but this, threw the American off. It kind of...hurt. For some reason, it hurt.

Startled at his loss of guard, he absently trudged back into the study and lifted the reciever to his ear; "Hello..?"

"Hi." Alfred heard the sound of something glass shattering and a curse echoed from the phone, "Fuck. Alfred, listen, I have to go. Tink is being an ass..."

The blond nodded, not remembering the other man could not see him. "Yeah, I have paperwork to do. I have to finish the contract for Russia..." he shuddered. Removing the talker from his warm ear, he mumbled to himself and sat back down at the study to resume with the boring papers.

But he hung up too quickly. Alfred didn't hear the real reason the Brit wanted to talk to him.

"I love you.."


	2. A Little Push

"Oh, screw it" the Brit whispered furiously as he got up out of bed and looked to see what time it was: 3:32 a.m.

"Bloody hell?" He asked himself, wondering why he still hadn't fallen asleep. Probably because he couldn't get his thoughts to stop going crazy after the Frenchman's visit earlier that day in his office.

xXx

He sat quietly in his office, filling out paperwork, like every day, when he heard a knock on his office door. "Come in quietly, please."

Once the door had been open, the Brit looked up to see who had disturbed him. Of course, of all people, it had to be Francis. He sighed in annoyance.

"What do you want, frog?"

"Hm, why do you seem so annoyed? I just got here!" Francis joked.

"You seem to have forgotten about our life-long fued, obviously." the Brit said bitterly.

"True, we have never gotten along, but after your little Amerique declared independance, you seem to get annoyed just by my existance. Why is zat?"

The Frenchman observed how the Englishman flinched when he mentioned the Revolution and sighed. 'the poor man, in all my years, I have never seen Arthur so hurt. Rejection is the only thing he knows' Francis thought sadly. Even if they didn't get along, the Englishman had grown on him. They had a friend/enemy type of relationship: hated each other, but still hung out.

"Because you're a self-centered pervert and I am very busy at the moment. May I ask, once again, why you are here?" the Brit asked, returning to his previous task of filling out paperwork.

Francis sighed and sat down in the chair in front of Arthur's desk and looked at him very seriously. The Brit tried to concentrate on filling out paperwork, but the Frenchman's gaze seemed very determined for some reason.

"Angleterre..." Francis said, trying to get him to look up, which he did.

"What?" The Brit asked, annoyed.

"I know you and I don't get along, but I hate seeing you so hurt..."

The Brit sighed and gave him a fake look of confusion. He had nearly mastered the art of acting after the Revolution, for it concealed all his hurt and pain.

"I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about." He said, sounding truly confused, but the Frenchman saw right through his little act. His eyes gave him away, as they always did. They were large, green, and absolutely heart-stoppingly beautiful. They showed so much emotion that the rest of him refused to show.

"Arthur, I know zat you know exactly what I am talking about. You cannot fool me, Angleterre."

The Brit sighed. "Why do you care, anyways?"

"Because I am curious, mon ami, what made Amerique different from ze rest of your precious colonies? You 'ad many colonies before America, but you were never so sad when they became independent. What made Amerique so special, Angleterre?"

Arthur's cheeks turned a light shade of pink from the question. He started to get really nervous because, for one, the Frenchman was a persistant prat, and for two, the conversation was going to get real personal, real soon. Maybe he could steer away from the topic? "I-I wasn't just sad when A-america became independent, you know. It was quite hurtful every time one of my ex-colonies became independent, as well."

So much for steering away from the topic. Arthur mentally facepalmed.

The French smirked. "You're lying." He stated.

"W-what? What do you mean? Of course I was sad whenever a colony of mine broke away from me! I-it wasn't just America!" The Brit said defensively. He was so adorable when he got all flustered.

This made the Frenchman chuckle. "Arthur, I am not dumb, I know you like Amerique~"

The Brit's light pink blush darkened. "Of course I like him, I like all of my colonies. Even if they are infuriating and annoying and obnoxious...and beautiful...and...blue eyes..." Arthur's thoughts drifted, not remembering the Frenchman was present.

Francis listened carefully, not making a sound. He wanted to see if Arthur would slip and say something while he was oblivious to his presence. Francis almost squeaked when he heard the Englishman mumble something.

"Those beautiful, Heavenly blue eyes..." Arthur's eyes grew glossy, but before a tear fell, he blinked and came back to reality. He coughed and gained back his composure. The Frenchman smirked.

"Angleterre, when Amerique was a young boy, all of us 'ad witnessed something we never thought was possible: You, your eyes were filled with pure joy and your smile was as vibrant as ze sun. Your heart 'ad melted the second you laid eyes on ze boy. Amerique made you soft and caring, something we had never thought was possible for you. You 'ad cared for many colonies before, but America was truely something special to you, and it was obvious to us all. Then the boy grew up and became idependent. I 'ad never seen a sadder look on someone's face. I remember you on ze battlefield. The look you gave ze boy was absolutely 'eartbreaking, I don't know how he was so strong to not give in," the Frenchman looked dead serious, and a little sad, it was so unusual. "I zhink I know why Amerique wanted to break free from you, Arthur." the Frenchman searched the Brit for any reaction.

His face was unreadable, but his eyes shone with sorrow and hurt, a single tear escaping. He waited a minute before asking "...Angleterre, do you think Amerique did what he did to hurt you?"

The Englishman thought before replying with a shaky "I don't know..."

"No, I don't zhink he did it to hurt you. Being your colony had made him your brother, so it makes perfect sense zat he would want to become independent. So he wouldn't have to be your brother, Angleterre."

"What the bloody hell! Are you trying to make me feel like a loner that everyone hates?" The Brit asked, his tone a bit hurt.

"No, Angleterre. I am getting to the point, so take your little tea kettle off ze stove." the Frenchman said, annoyed that he was interupted, but then the Brit shut his mouth to let him continue.

"America didn't just break away because of your taxes, but because he felt zat being your brother just didn't feel right. Amerique, as you know, always follows his 'eart, and his 'eart told him to break away. He knew it would hurt you, but he knew zat it was what he wanted, but he didn't know why. He iz still trying to figure out why he didn't want to be his brother, but I, as any other country that 'as observed you two, could tell you exactly why he wanted to break away." Francis smiled.

"Okay then, tell me why America decided to break away." Arthur asked, more tense than ever, his eyes narrowed.

"Zat is for you two to find out." Francis said, standing up in the process.

"How do you expect me to figure it out? It has been over two centuries." the Brit asked, irritated.

"Mon ami, we all know how you feel about Amerique, you love him. We all can tell." the Frenchman said, getting the Brit to blush.

"You are all mistaken, then. I do not l-love America!" he said, turing his face to the left to hide his burning cheeks. 'Has it really been so obvious?'

"Angleterre, I am the country of l'amour, I can tell when two people are in love, even if they don't know it themselves. So maybe it isn't such a bad thing that Amerique became independent. It has given you a chance to do something you could never do before without it being awkward...well, less awkward..." the French said in a 'hint, hint' tone.

"W-what would that b-be?" the Brit asked, his face a deep shade of red.

"Confess, Angleterre. I can't force you to, but you 'ave to at least try. So much sadness isn't good for your health, mon cher." Francis answered, and walked out of his office without another word.

Arthur sat, shocked and confused, before going to his kitchen to make himself a cup of tea to calm his racing thoughts and pounding heart.

xXx

'The damn frog' He had made it impossible for him to sleep. He decided it was pointless to try, considering it was 3:32 in the morning, so he got out of bed and went for the kitchen to fetch himself a warm, calming cup of tea. He needed it, he had been on edge ever since yesterday morning after their 'talk' and his tea had kept his emotions in check so that he didn't start angrily yelling and knocking things over, or bawling in a corner somewhere.

He sighed. The damn Frenchy was right, he should confess to Alfred, so after making his cup of tea, he grabbed his phone.

Tink, one of his imaginary friends, was awaken by his very noisey tea kettle and flew to see what he was doing. Tink wasn't a very happy camper right after waking up, she never was. One she got into the kitchen, she saw her friend Arthur holding a cup of tea in his right hand, while he held a phone up to his ear with his left. She giggled when she saw that Arthur was still in his unicorn pajamas.

"Alfred?" He said, sounding a little surprised. Oh, so it was America, Arthur's little crush. It was perfect. He woke her up and he was on the phone with Alfred. Tink loved being annoying when he was talking to Alfred, so she decided it would be payback for waking her up.

She made her way quietly to the counter while he continued his phone call.

"One, don't call me Iggy. My name is Arthur," the Brit snapped, "Two, did you finish the damn paperwork? We have a meeting tomorrow."

She rolled her eyes, she knew that he loved it when Alfred called him Iggy, he just didn't want to admit it. When she made it to the counter, Tink started to think what would be a good punishment for waking her up and for being too tsundere.

"'I'unno'? Good Christ, Alfred, talk like a normal person!" Tink rolled her eyes again, he was such a grammar Nazi! Wait...he's British, nevermind. (No offense to anyone...)

"And don't mock me!" He said, sounding rather annoyed. She sighed, he needed to lighten up.

'Hm...' Tink thought, looking around. 'What can I do?' She tapped her foot and crossed her arms.

"Yes, you twit! The damn papers! We need those tomorrow, you bloody moron!" He yelled, seeming very irritated, as always.

She chuckled. 'Suuure, THAT'S why you're calling, Arthur.'

She heard Arthur scoff. "That's not what I-" He was angrily trying to explain, but seemed to get cut off by Alfred.

"Don't call me that, and I really just wanted to-" He was cut off again. He started to look very, very angry and Tink got a little frightened. She hated seeing him so mad.

She resulted to just listening to the call for a bit and sat on the counter in silence.

"Because I said so, now let me-"

A pause.

"It is if I say it is, now let me finish tal-"

She tried listening to see if she could hear what Alfred was saying. She could only make out a couple of words, even if Alfred was a loud mouth.

"hat's...pid. 'It is if... say...is'? You aren't...boss... logic,... know."

"Alfred, let me say what I-"

"I mean...ly,... shouldn't say things...that."

"Alfred, will you let me finish talki-" He sounded only a little annoyed, but she knew he was going to explode at any second.

"I..ess,... you-" She couldn't hear what he said next because Arthur cut him off, instead.

"LET ME FINISH, GODAMMIT!"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line and Arthur was breathing heavily. It stayed like that for a good minute, before she heard Alfred on the other line.

"I'll be back..." Although it was only a faint whisper, but she heard it clearly. He sounded hurt.

She shook her head and sighed. 'Why must he be so harsh to Alfred?'

Another minute passed until Tink heard Alfred speak again "Hello...?"

She decided to just push his tea cup off the counter for being such a jerk to Alfred and waking her up.

"Hi" Arthur replied flatly before he heard the sound of something breaking and looked over to see Tink sitting on the counter, arms crossed and tapping her foot, looking at him with disappriving eyes.

"Fuck. Alfred, listen, I have to go. Tink is being an ass..." He said, sighing.

She was now extremely angry. SHE was the one being an ass? Please. Tink flew back to her room in a huff.

Before she was out of earshot, she heard Arthur say "I love you..." in an almost whisper.

Damn it, she felt terrible now. 'Was that the real reason he called Alfred?' she asked herself, and went back to bed.

The line went dead right before he could say it and he sighed. 'Bloody hell, I didn't even get to tell him. What was the point of calling?' the Brit thought miserable while he picked up the remains of his tea cup and went to get ready, the world meeting was at 7:00 and it was already 4:00.


	3. The Question Game

Giving credit to .xX for some of the ideas and for starting the story! Check out some of her stories when you get the chance!

I do not own Hetalia, cause if I did, oh goodness life would be awesome!

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He got ready for the meeting. It was only 4:30 in the morning, but he needed to hand in the paperwork today and he wasn't finished. Totally not cool. He lost some of his beauty sleep filling out all those goddamned papers! Why were they so important? Eh, whatever.

An hour later, he finished the paperwork. He sat around for a while before deciding to just drop the papers off at his boss's house. He had nothing better to do, anyways, so he grabbed his keys and went to deliver the paperwork.

After he delivered the papers, it was almost time for the meeting so he just drove to the meeting place. He had a feeling today wasn't going to be fun.

xXx

Arthur stepped into his basement and grabbed his wand off a nearby shelf. He decided that teleporting was much easier than traveling, so he memorized a very simple and reliable teleporting spell that didn't always land him in the middle of the ocean.

The meeting was being held in America in Washington D.C. He drew an invisible circle in the air with his wand and muttered a few strange words and stepped forward. He was now in Washington D.C.

He walked into the building where the meeting was to be held and sighed. He hated these things because everyone always argued. He sat down in his usual seat and started to prepare for the meeting. Once he had gotten himself situated, as if on cue, Alfred entered.

"Hey everybody! 'Sup?" He waved with his free hand, the other holding a large folder filled with papers instead of his usual three hamburgers or jumbo sized soda, his cheery smile still in place as he took his usual seat next to Arthur. "Hey England, what's up?" He asked cheerily.

"Nothing, really" He replied.

"Ya sure, dude? You seemed pretty cranky over the phone earlier." He accused.

"It was nearly four in the morning when I called, of course I wasn't in a very good mood." Arthur said defensively.

"Oh yeah, by the way, why'd ya call, anyways?" Alfred asked.

"W-well, I..." the Brit swallowed nervously as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I just wanted to t-tell you something." He explained.

"Oh, what'd ya wanna tell me, then?" He asked, oblivious to how nervous the Brit was.

"I j-just wanted to tell you that-" He was cut off by Germany's shouting.

"Silence! I call this meeting to order! Now everybody sit down, we have a few presentations to get through before lunch so everyone just shut up and listen!" the German explained. "England, I believe your presentation is first"

"Right, then" the Brit said, a bit nervous as he stood and walked towards the podium.

'My boss can be so horrid, of all the topics for a presentation, he had to choose war? It's like everyone is in on some sort of plan to get me to break down or something. Wankers.' He thought to himself as he began his presentation.

...

"Now, according to..." The American tuned Arthur out, like always, and started to daydream about super heros.

...

"Now I shall read you the list of SOME major wars that my country had been involved in, but due to our tight schedule I cannot talk about them all. After I read off the list, I shall tell of the outcome of each one." He said. It was manditory for every country to list and tell about their major wars every decade or so, although there really wasn't any point in doing it, Arthur always stuck to the rules. They didn't even get to choose what wars, their bosses did, and they just read off the list. Arthur prayed that one specific war wasn't on the list his boss gave him.

He cleared his throat and began to read off the list in front of him. "War of the Spanish Succession, Civil War, the War of Austria Succession, the S-seven Years' War, and the A-american Revolutionar-ry...war..." He trailed off. The last war on the list was the American Revolution, bloody hell. He swore that even his boss was in on some sort of plan.

"The War of Spanish Succession's outcome: the territory in Canada and the West Indies ceded from France and the territory in Europe ceded from Spain." He paused to quickly glance at the other countries before returning to the paper.

"The Civil War, many uprisings in my country that resulted in Jacobite's restoration attempt being defeated." He silently sighed. "The War of Austria Succession..." He continued.

"The Seven Years' War" He glared at France when he said this.

"Extensive North American lands ceded from France, Caribbean colonies ceded from France, Senagal River colony ceded from France, and Florida ceded from Spain." He said, his tone a bit nervous near the end. He wished he could just stay on that war, anything to keep him from having to talk about...

"Now, the A-American Revolutionary War: Thirteen British colonies granted i-indep-pendence as U-united Sstates, a-and territory in North America ceded to n-new United States" He finished. His face was beat red and tears threatened to fall down his cheeks. 'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry!' but a tear escaped and fell down his cheek. 'BLOODY HELL!'

He turned around to look at the large screen that also displayed the information he was telling. It showed some pictures, and one caught his attention, even through his blurry vision. It was a picture of Alfred and himself, dressed in their war uniforms, both facing the other way, back to back. He couldn't take it. He started to shake and tears poured down his cheeks. He had to keep it together, so he took deep breaths, trying to calm himself, but it wasn't helping.

He would have to definitely yell at his boss for this later, even if he was his boss, HE was a country, he could do what he wanted. That damn picture brought up so many unwanted memories that he had tried to forget.

...

In the middle of one of his daydreams, something caught the American's attention. Some countries around him started to whisper in concerned, worried tones. The curiosity was getting to him, maybe it was something the presenter was doing or saying, so he looked up to see who it was. It was Arthur. He was facing the large screen that displayed a bunch of words and pictures, one of them looked like Arthur and him during the Revoution.

He automatically thought 'shit'. Alfred looked at Arthur, who seemed to be shaking, so he jumped up and walked over to the podium and wrapped his arms around the shorter blond, who wore a now very shocked expression. Alfred knew exactly what to do when Arthur was sad, he had known him better than anyone, and seeing Arthur cry was only a sight witnessed by the closest people to him...a.k.a, only him. He continued to hug him until the shorter blond hugged back, clinging to him like he was a lifeline, and silently cried into his shirt.

Alfred turned off the powerpoint on the screen with one arm still hugging the other blond.

The other countries 'awwwwwh'ed at the sweet display of comfort. Some countries were tearing up, including the usual strong and unmoveable Germany. Even he had to admit, it was a pretty sweet scene. (Yeah! USUK moments are sweet enough to soften up Germany. :D)

"Shhh, it's okay." Alfred rubbed small circles on his back soothingly. He thought for a second before adding "I'm sorry I hurt you..." The Brit froze for a second.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked in a gentle tone, pulling back just enough to look the Brit in the eyes.

The Brit finally calmed down enough and looked up at him as he pulled away slightly, hands on the American's chest. The American took one gloved hand and wiped away his tears. They stood there for a minute before the Brit suddenly came back to reality and pushed the American away, cheeks red with embarrassement."I'm fine, I think Tink just put something strange in my tea this morning or something." He said, as he tried to gather what was left of his dignity. They both had forgotten where they were, but the American didn't seem embarrassed at all.

"Return to your seat, America." the Brit commanded, gaining back his composure and replaced his sad expression with his usual scowl.

He ended his presentation, apologizing for the scene he had made, and sat back down. The rest of the meeting dragged on as Italy did his presentation on pasta and how it could help world peace, which ended up with Germany having to drag him away from the podium. China presented some economic charts and whatnot. Arthur just wanted to leave. The other countries kept glancing at Alfred and him, but Alfred didn't seem to notice, he was probably just off in his own little world. Even with the usual argueing and disagreeing, the meeting had a more tense atmosphere than usual.

He saw Alfred suddenly grab his pen and write something down on the nearest piece of paper he could find. The boy was so random, probably just writing down his 'hero' ideas, so he ignored it, even when he thought he felt something slide under one of his folders.

Once the meeting ended, all of the countries filed out of the room. Arthur started to get all of his notes together when Alfred came up to him. "Hey dude, you okay?" He asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yes, I am quite alright, thank you."

"You sure? Ya went all, you know..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "sad and stuff earlier..."

"I'm fine, I think Tink put something in my tea and that something had some side effects." He lied.

"Well, okay...if ya say so..." He started to turn and walk away. "but if you need me, I'll be in my office doing paperwork." He said as he walked off.

"Oh? You actually fill out your paperwork? I'm impressed, America." the Brit joked.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." the American waved a hand in dismissal as he walked out, leaving the Brit alone with Francis and Eliaveta.

As he finished packing up, he noticed that the other two were watching him, it was very creepy, but he ignored them. He packed up the rest of his things and walked out into the hallway, and into his office a few doors down.

He was surprised when Alfred told him he had a personal building built for the world meetings. It had enoough offices for each country to have their own, plus rooms to stay in since meetings sometimes lasted full weeks. It was actually very nice, each office was personally decorated with furniture and paintings from their own country. It must have cost a fortune to furnish.

He sat down at the desk and laid out his paperwork. It was going to be a long afternoon. He sighed and picked up a pen. He finished filling out about half of it before he spotted a nearly blank piece of paper with a little note that had Alfred's handwriting. He read it- but only because he was bored.

_You never told me the reason you called me. So...call me again when you have the chance. -Alfred_

He was surprised to see that he had used proper grammar. He reached for the phone eagerly. He was bored out of his mind, plus he liked talking to Alfred, not that he'd ever admit it.

He dialed Alfred's number (He had memorized it a very long time ago) and waited for him to pick up.

"Hey Arthur, 'sup!"

"Nothing, I was actually quite bored when I found your little note" He explained.

"Or maybe you just wanted to talk to me~" He teased.

"Oh belt up." He retorted.

"Whatever, man. So, what do you want to talk about?" He asked.

"I don't know..." He said. He had forgotten why he called already.

"We could play a game" He suggested.

"What kind of game can you play over the phone?" He asked.

"The question game! All you do is ask each other questions and answer truthfully. Whoever refuses to answer a question first is the loser. 'Kay?" He explained enthusiastically.

"Okay, I have nothing better to do, anyways. You begin." He said, leaning back in his chair.

"Okay, um..." It took him a few moments to think. "Oh, I know! What's your favorite pasttime-not including reading or magic crap."

He ignored the 'magic crap' part as he thought. "If I tell you, you have to promise you won't laugh."

"Okay, I promise I won't laugh."

He sighed. "My favorite pasttime is...embroidering" He waited for his reaction.

"Cool, man. You probably make some awesome designs and all. Maybe you can show me some of them some time!"

He was take aback. He wanted to see some of his embroidery work? He thought it was cool? Huh.

"Oh, yes, of couse you can, but later." He agreed, still a little surprised he hadn't laughed.

"'Kay. Anyways, it's your turn."

"Um, let's see here...Who is your best friend?" He asked. He was actually rather curious.

"You! Duh!"

He dropped his pen. Was he really Alfred's best friend? After getting over the shock, he grinned ear to ear. HE wad Alfred's best friend.

"Oh, really? I didn't know that." He finally said.

"Yeah. Hm...Who's YOUR best friend?" He asked.

"You are my best friend. Always have been." He said sweetly.

"Thanks man! Woohoo!"

"So, it's my turn, I suppose. Um...what's the longest word you know?"

"Easy. supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious!"

"Really? That isn't even a real word. It's just a word a director made up for a movie."

"Yeah, but don't you remember it? It had a few British people in it...right?"

"Yes, but there are many remakes, so it depends on which one you speak of"

"Eh, whatever. Whose turn is it?"

They talked for about two hours, completely forgetting what happened earlier. It kind of felt like they were getting to know each other all over again-like meeting for the first time. The thought made the Brit tear up thinking about when he'd first met Alfred.

Then they had to go to bed. They had another meeting the next day and they had to get up early.

Arthur walked towards his room and changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his journal. He grabbed a pen and sat on his bed and began to write.

May 20th, 2012

_Today was quite embarrassing. My boss had put the American Revolution as the last war for the presentation specifically to torture me, I just know it...Hm...he never was too fond of me, we've never really gotten along, anyways. Well, I was pretty assured that I could take it until I saw that dreadful picture. That finally got me and Alfred came up to comfort me. Such a sweet lad. I miss him, we had such a great brother relationship. Francis just used some sort of French method to make me think different, but I only love him as a brother, but we're not brothers. Hm..._

_No, I was just brainwashed by the frog, thank God Tink saved me by making me hang up. I would have completely ruined our friendship forever. I've already lost him as a brother...Francis was just wanted to see how foolish I could truely be. I should thank Tink, she really did save me from making a huge mistake. Only a brotherly kind of love, yes, of course. But calling Alfred a friend just doesn't feel right...I don't know, but I'm quite drowsy, I'm off to bed._

He placed the journal back on the miniature bookshelf and climbed into bed and just lay there, staring at the wall. 'The damn frog is just trying to get to me and now he probably has my boss in on it, too...' He thought before his eyes slipped shut and he was carried off into a world of dreams.

xXx

Alfred walked down the hallway humming a little tune. His humming was suddenly interrupted when a hand landed on his shoulder. He whipped around to see Francis and let out a sigh of relief. At first he thought he was about to get into some trouble with someone, even though the countries were the only people allowed in the building.

"Mon ami, zat was sweet of you to do for Arthur. I just wanted to praise you for being so caring."

"Huh? Oh yeah, it was nothing."

"Sure it was..."

"What'ta ya mean?" He asked, his brow furrowing, head tilting in confusion.

The Frenchman just smiled sweetly. He was a pervert, even he had to admit that, but seeing two people be in love without realizing it was just too adorable for him to be perverted about it..

"Amerique, you 'urt 'im when you started the Revolution, non?"

"Yeah, I know..." He said, bowing his head in guilt.

"Well, you told me zat you didn't really want to 'urt him, but you wanted to follow your 'eart because Arthur raised you to. Now, 'ave you figured out why you became independent yet? It's been almost three hundred years, mon ami."

"I don't know, but I have a feeling I'm going to find out why soon." He said. Lately he had a feeling something was changing, but he couldn't figure out what.

"I see...well I 'ope you find out soon, ze both of you." He said. "I 'ave to get my beauty sleep, goodnight." He said.

"Okay, goodnight, I guess..." He said, watching the Frenchman walk ahead and into his room as he walked into his own, his mind crowded with thoughts.

He took off his shirt and pants, leaving only his boxers and went to bed. Too tired to brush his teeth. He had spent most of the day after the meeting worrying over Arthur until he finally called him, which relieved him a little. He might not be his brother anymore, but he still cared about him, even if he didn't want to admit it because he was suppose to be the tough hero.

* * *

Hey, you know that picture that was on the presentation screen? This was the picture I was trying to describe (just take out the spaces)

http: image /recent /TheRoyalSeahorse /Axis%2520Powers%2520Hetalia

And yeah, sorry for all of the spelling mistakes and whatnot in the past few chapters, I'll try and go back and fix them! Thank you guys for reading, I'll be updating soon!


	4. Truth or Dare

Chapter three and a half

"Fuck it" the American said as he half walked, half dragged himself to the eating area on the first floor. He ordered a coffee and sat down, sighing and trying to wake up a little. He never woke up this early, but he dreamed about when he was little, that hit his heart, man. He couldn't take it and he woke up with teary eyes, but had refused to cry.

He sighed again, looking around and taking a sip of his coffee. He wasn't usually grumpy, it was actually very rare to see him grumpy, but his morning had sucked major shit (XD). Then, Ivan began to walk over with a creepy smile on his face, and he darted, leaving his coffee and his grogginess behind as he ran back to his room. He was not going to become one with Ivan, that fucking creep.

He had nothing to do and the meeting wasn't until afternoon. It was seven in the morning, so he had about four to five hours to kill, and now that he was fully awake, he was bored. He walked over and sat in his chair, opening his laptop. He opened up 'Google' and was about to type something in, when he heard a sneeze come from his bathroom and his head whipped to the bathroom door. He got up, preparing to fight, and opened the door, throwing his fist back, about to punch. He stopped when he saw it was Eliaveta. He dropped his fist and stared.

"What are you doing in my bathroom...?" He asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought this was Rodrich's room and I was going to scare him when he came back in...hm...now this explains the messiness and lacking of a piano..." She lied.

"Oh, well his room is all away across the hall, how did you get them mixed up? Eh, whatever, this isn't his room, but if you want, you can stay a while. I'm bored as hell." He said.

"That seems fun!" She said, happy that she had an excuse to talk to one of them.

"Awesome!" He said, shutting his laptop and sitting on the bed, patting the area next to him.

She sat down. "So what do you want to do?" She asked.

"I'dunno. We could play a game." He suggested.

"Sure, what kind of game?" She asked.

He thought for a minute before answering "How about Truth or Dare?" He asked with a mischievous smile.

Her eyes lit up, it was perfect. "Sure!" She said a little too quickly.

"Woah, someone seems excited." He said, laughing and smiling in contentment.

"So, you want to go first?" He asked.

"Sure. Um...truth or dare?"

He smiled. "Dare"

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "I dare you to have the next meeting at a beach!" She said.

"Wow, that dare is more fun than it is torture, but sure. Why not? I have an indoor pool on the first floor, anyway."

"Oh waw, okay, you ask."

"Truth or dare"

"Truth" She said, not taking the risk, Americans were not nice when it came to dares- she learned that the hard way.

He thought hard. "Hm...Hey" He said, smirking. "Have you ever done something behind Rodrich's back?" He asked.

"Well...yeah." She admitted.

"Can I ask what?" He asked, seeming unphased.

She giggled. "Not unless you tell me something that you've done behind Arthur's back." She said playfully.

He thought before smiling. "'kay. Why not? Hm...something I've done behind Arthur's back..." He thought, tapping his chin with one finger.

She waited for a minute, his sudden outburst making her jump.

"AH HA! I once took his journal when I was little to see what he was always writing about. I was five, so I honestly had no idea what half of the words meant, so I gave up. I never told him I looked, but I was too young, so he probably wouldn't mind, if he did, I could always just use the puppy dog face on him. He was such a sucker when it came to that. I think he still has the journal...He use to carry it around everywhere...but that's probably because he thought if I found it, I'd be too young to understand...he was right, but now he never has it with him..." He said, seeming to drift off into his own thoughts.

She waited a while before she finally waved her hand in front of his face, getting him to snap back into reality. "Hey, we were in the middle of a game, remember? You are getting all spacy on me." She complained.

"Oh, sorry." He said, rubbing the back of his neck and giving her a sheepish smile.

"It's fine" She said, smirking. She knew what she was going to do now.

"Anyways, I think I should tell you something I've done behind Rodrich's back." She reminded him.

He perked up and waited for her to tell.

"I studied spy techniques and weaponary, so I know a lot more about the stuff than I let him know" She said with a proud smirk.

The American whistled. "You're tough, girl. Okay, your turn."

"Truth or dare" She said, eagerly awaiting his response.

He smirked and pretended to think about it for a long while. "Truth"

He could of sworn that her grin was literally ear to ear and he got a little scared. Eliaveta probably wasn't the person you'd want to choose 'truth' for. She was clever and evil dispite her innocent appearance.

"Okay." She said, giggling. "What's your real sexuality?"

"Whoah woah woah!" He said, putting his hands up and leaning away, his eyes wide. "Getting a little personal."

"You still have to answer truthfully." She said pointedly.

He sighed. She was right, but he was actually starting to question if his sexuality was what he always thought it was. It was starting to freak him out-he had nothing against peoples' sexuality-he just felt more comfortable telling people he liked girls.

"I...um...I...well..." He stumbled and tried to find the right words.

"Well...?" She said after a minute, raising an eyebrow, but she knew the answer. She tried to hold down her smile, just barely able to hide it.

"I...I don't know..." He said, sounding defeated.

"You don't know? What's making you question it?" She asked, even though she knew.

"I...it's...It's wrong...just bros..." He said mostly to himself.

"What do you mean 'just bros'?" She asked.

"I'm not sure...Arthur and I have been talking more and all and it doesn't feel like when I was younger. It's a different feeling from out past friendship and I'm starting to get confused, I guess..." He said, sounding nervous and uncomfortable.

"Well that's okay, so you're gay?" She said, sounding strangely unphased.

He just looked at her, blinking in shock. "What? No! I mean, I don't have a problem with gays, but I am straight!"

"Hm...okay..." She said, but she knew what Alfred was thinking about. He was starting to like Arthur more than a friend. She was starting to think that nature was doing the job all on its own, but that wasn't going to stop her from having some fun with it. "I guess it's your turn then."

"Okay. Truth or dare?" He said, relieved they had finally gotten off the topic.

"Truth"

"Do you like Gilbert?"

"Wh-what? That's silly, I'm married to Rodrich!" She said nervously.

"That doesn't mean you can't secretly like someone else~"He pointed out.

"Fine, I suppose I DO like him a little, but I won't ever divorce Rodrich-he is so sweet and loving." She said.

"Awwwh, that sounded so sappy." He said, sounding annoyed, but smiling.

"Oh please, you can be sappy."She defended.

"What? Since when have I ever been sappy?"

She smiled and shook her head slightly. "Never mind. Truth or dare?"

They continued to play for about two hours, but they didn't really dare anything embarrassing or ask anything personal, just friendly truth or dare until the meeting was about to start.

"Oh, the meeting will be starting soon!" She suddenly said as Alfred attempted to balance a soda on his nose, and failing.

"We should get going." He said. "...right after I put on some shoes..." He added, putting down the soda and grabbing his shoes, shoving his feet into them.

"Okay, lets go!" He said, opening the door and closing it once they were both out.

"Oh, I think I forgot something in my room! She said. "You go on without me, I won't be long."

"Okay, later." He said, waving as she set off down the corridor and into her room.

...

Once she was in her room, she looked through her peep hole to see if the Brit was still in there, which he wasn't. He never was late to a meeting and there was only ten minutes until it started so she needed to work quick. She grabbed a credit card and a screwdriver just in case the door was locked.

After three minutes, she cracked open the door to see the American was not in the corridor anymore and closed the door, walking to the door next to hers and turned the knob. Locked. She took out the credit card and unlocked it.

She walked in and shut the door behind her and looked around. The room was extremely clean. 'Hm...where could it be...?' She thought, tapping her chin with her finger as she searched of all of he possible places: Under the bed, in a drawer, in a desk, inside a pillow case. Nothing. She sat on the bed, defeated, just looking around until she saw a miniature bookshelf and she perked up. Why didn't she think of it before? The Brit loved reading!

She go up and walked over to the shelf, carefully looking at the book spines until she came across a blank one, black in color. She pulled it out carefully, remembering to see where it was placed to make sure she'd put it back in the right spot.

She tooka seat on the bed and put the journal in her lap. "Should I?" She whispered to herself. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head, staring at the blank cover. She pondered whether she should snoop or not, but then she smiled. She got up off the bed and walked out of the room. Then she took the screwdriver and turned it in the doorknob to lock it. She had read about how to unlock and lock doors without a key a few months ago and had already almost perfected the skill.

She walked back into her room and started to rummage through a chest under her bed. Once she found what she was looking for, she sat on her bed and began her work.

...

Everyone had gotten settled down in their chairs and were unusually quiet and calm. Everyone would usually be at each other's throats by now, but everyone sat in their seats waiting patiently for the meeting to begin.

"Dudes, did someone die?!" Alfred suddenly asked, startling everyone."...what?" He asked, rubbing his neck. The Brit next to him sighed.

"America, sit down. You really have no idea how to read the atmosphere, do you?" He said.

The American did what he was told and then the meeting was started by the German (like always) because it seemed they were going to get nowhere if he didn't do anything.

The meeting was very awkward, no one had ever seen the Brit cry- but Alfred seemed unphased by it. He had seen it happen before and had known exactly how to handle it. Most of the countries admired their special bond that Alfred and Arthur didn't even seem to be aware of. Even Vash and Lili (Switzerland and Liechtenstein) didn't have that close of a bond. There was something special about their relationship and the others both admired and envied.

Arthur kept catching others peeking at the two of them and started to turn a little pink. He was still embarrassed and the others' gazes weren't helping. Alfred seemed completely oblivious, as always. He tried to find an excuse to talk to him because he was about to fall asleep, but kept his posture perfect and seemed to be paying full attention. The American seemed to be spaced out so he nudged him.

The American looked at him with surprise. "Huh?" He said.

"Stop spacing out and pay attention." He whispered, trying to sound annoyed.

"Whoops, sorry. Hey, you okay? You're looking a little red. You hot?" He said, sounding concerned.

"No, no, I'm fine." He assured.

"...okay..." He said unsurely. "Anyway, how do you feel about beaches?" He asked causually.

"What? Why do you want to know?" He asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Just wondering, you seemed to like them when I was younger. We use to always go to the beach, man! We'd go on those speedboats and build these awesome sand castles." He said.

"And?" He said, sounding annoyed, but he was smiling because he loved those memories.

"Wouldn't you want to do that again?" He asked, his puppy dog eyes showing.

"Well, it would be really fun." He said, smile widening.

The American grinned at him. "We should do that soon." and he leaned over to whisper very quietly. "Just to warn you, Eliaveta dared me to have a meeting at the beach tomorrow, so be prepared, and don't tell anyone. It's suppose to be a surprise...and I was thinking that we could have our own little beach party by ourselves some time this week, just like we use to." He whispered, sitting back up and smiling at the Brit, whose smile reached his eyes. This made the American smile more, he looked so happy.

"Vould you two like to share vhat you're discussing vith the rest of us?" The German said, sounding irritated.

"Nah, I think we're good." The American said cheerily. The Brit couldn't help but laugh his arse off. He was rolling on the floor laughing and the American started to laugh because it was so funny. Everyone was looking at them weird. They looked crazy, but they didn't care. They laughed a little longer until they finally gained back their composure. They were silent for a second...and then burst out laughing again.

"P-please aha ex ahaha excuse us for a ahahaha second" Arthur managed to say in between his laughter as they both walked out, clutching their stomachs as they continued to laugh their asses off.

They walked into the hallway and collapsed in another fit of laughter. Why they thought it was so funny, they did not know, but it took them at least two more minutes to stop laughing. They rested themselves on the wall as they panted and held their stomachs (which now hurt like hell) from laughing so much.

"Why...must you...always be such a...smartarse?" The Brit asked, laughing lightly, still panting.

"What? You always called me a 'DUMBass', so the smartass thing is pretty new, actually," He said with a grin. The Brit just rolled his eyes.

"You somehow manage to be both because you were also a dumbarse for saying that to an annoyed German," He said.

"Worth it!" He said cheerily. The Brit just rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"I haven't laughed that hard in ages. I feel like I just did a hundred crunches!"

"That's because you, sir, are a weakling that needs to start joining me at the gym."

"You work out?"

"Maybe..."

The Brit smirked. "Liar. You don't go to the gym."

"Well, so what? You need to work out."

"Look who's talking." The Brit shot back.

"Hey! What's that suppose to mean?!"

"Oh, nothing." He said in an amused tone.

The American huffed and crossed his arms like a child. The Brit just chuckled. "It doesn't matter. We could both use some time in the gym. You for burning fat, and me for building strength. How about we go some time?" He suggested.

"Sure, that'd be awesome. Wanna go get some ice cream?" He asked.

"That would be nice, maybe it will ease my stomach cramps-which I blame you for. I am not a big fan of ice cream, though..."

"Hey, it was your fault for laughing. Hm...lets see how much ice cream I could get you to eat, I'm sure you'll like it, though. You just have to give it a try!" He said enthusiastically, getting off the floor and offering the Brit his hand, which he accepted.

"Wait, wouldn't we be skipping a meeting?" The Brit said, stopping in his tracks. They had walked half way down the hallway and the Brit's comment went ignored. The American just grabbed his wrist and walked a little faster, the Brit tripping and stumbling behind him. The American grinned as he pushed him into the elevator and pressed the '1' button, despite the Brit's protests to go back.

"You already agreed."

The Brit tried to look annoyed as he turned away from the American. He huffed and crossed his arms, but he had a smile on his face. He loved skipping and breaking rules- a little bit of his rebellious side that stubbornly stayed with him.

"Fine, only this one time." He said, trying to sound irritated. The American just laughed.

"Lighten up, dude."

The elevator door opened before the Brit could reply and he was dragged out of the building and down the street by the American until they came to a stop inside an ice cream shop.

"One triple chocolate scoop and one..." He looked at Arthur and back at the employee. "and one regular vanilla scoop."

"Will that be all?" The employee asked.

"Yeah, thanks dude."

As they waited for their ice cream, Alfred turned to Arthur. "You like vanilla, right? You sometimes had some tea that smelt like vanilla."

"Yes, I like vanilla. It's a very soothing flavor," He said.

"Good."He said as he took the two cones the employee gave him and paid him.

They walked out of the shop and he handed Arthur his.

"Thank you."

"No problem, bro!" He said cheerily, practically attacking his ice cream. The Brit gently licked at his (pffft AHAHAHA!) he wasn't use to having ice cream-especially in a cone, and he didn't want it to fall off.

"So what da ya wanna do now?" The American asked.

"I don't know...we could go to a clothing shop and dress up in ridiculous clothes." He suggested, not really meaning it.

"That would be awesome!" He said.

"Oh no...what have I done..." He said half serious, half jokingly.

"C'mon, lets go!" He said, grabbing the Brit's arm and dragging him into a clothing shop.

"Alfred! We need to at least finish eating! Well...you already have, how do you eat so fast...?"

"I just do. Hurry up! You take forever to eat!"

Sighing, the Brit quickly finished the rest of his ice cream. "Okay, now what?" He asked, looking around.

"Hey! Try this on!" The American said, already searching through a rack of clothing. He was holding out a small stack of clothes and pushed it into the Brit's chest, forcing him to grab them. He was then pushed into a dressing room.

He put the clothes down on the small bench and undressed, leaving only his boxers. Then he grabbed the first item of clothing- some blue and red checkered pants, which were rather tight. Then he put on a dress shirt and a tie that matched his pants. Then he put on the last thing- a black vest. He felt like he was a punk again and it felt good. When he stepped out, he could have sworn Alfred's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Damn, Arthur! You were born to be a punk or something!" He said after recovering from shock.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Are you just going to stand there and stare or actually try something on?" He said, crossing his arms.

"Wow, put you in a different outfit and it gives you a different personality. Awesome!" He said.

They tried some outfits on until they were both tired and they walked back to the building, where they went to their rooms and did their own things.

xXx

"Finally, it's finished!" the Hungarian said with a happy sigh.

She held up the now pink journal with the word 'Diary' printed on the front in curly, lacy writing. She made it so that she could take off the cover with no danage or evidence left behind. She made sure to hide the name of the owner by covering the front page with something only Eliaveta would know about. Then she snickered. 'This is so fun...but so evil!'


	5. Beach Fun

Chapter four

Alfred woke up rather early. He set at least five alarm clocks to specifically wake him up at nearly five in the morning. The meeting was going to be very interesting today. He smiled to himself, turning off the alarms before someone else woke up in the rooms closest to him, even if he specifically advised the construction workers to make thicker walls,(hehe, not for THAT reason) he didn't want to chance it. He got out of bed and took a shower.

He chuckled when he thought about the oncoming meeting as he put on his swim trunks.

His grin never faltered as he walked out of his room and down the hall as quietly as he could. He hoped nobody else was up. Once he got into the elevator at the end of the hall, he pressed a couple of buttons that led him to his very wicked-awesome office.

He waited as the elevator took him up, almost falling out of the elevator when the doors opened. He raced to the large desk and pressed a red button as he looked up to see the large screen on the left wall light up. It was huge, and had a clear view of each county's room, aimed to show them sleeping in their beds. (cause he is a creeper...)

He pressed a blue button labeled 'alarm' and watched the large screen. He laughed as some of the other countries woke up, seeming very alarmed. He kept his finger on the button until he saw that every country was awake. Once he let the alarm ring for a little bit longer, he pressed a smaller purple button with a small speaker near it. He leaned towards the speaker and began to speak.

"Good morning everyone, I have a very important announcement: Today's meeting will be held in the indoor beach." He said. His smile could be heard when he spoke. He paused as he looked at the screens to see their reactions. "And yes, we do have an indoor beach." He added when he saw some countries with very confused looks. "It's on the first floor. From the elevator, you take a left and it's the door at the end of the hall. It is manditory to attend and is manditory to wear proper swimwear. Girls in bikinis and guys in swim trunks. The meeting will be in one hour, so don't be late."

He took his finger off the button and watched the screens. Some of them looked rather shy, some looked angry. He thought it was amusing, but he turned off the large screen so that they'd have their privacy when changing. He couldn't wait to see some of the others in their swimsuits. It was going to be awesome.

xXx

"Arthur, I love you" the American said, looking into the Brit's eyes. They were sitting side by side on a large hill, overlooking Washington D.C. It was a beautiful sight, really. Lights from the city shined, the Washington Monument towered over everything, the Lincoln memorial to the left. The full moon was casting a beautiful glow off the grass surrounding them.

The moonlight cast an angelic glow off the American's features, making him even more beautiful, if it were possible. He was perfect, and those blue eyes out-shined every star in the sky, even the blinding city lights couldn't out shine those beautiful blue orbs. The American gently tilted his chin up and his face grew closer as he slowly leaned in until-

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

"Bloody hell..." the Brit muttered as he cracked his eyes open. His alarm didn't sound like that...

He quickly untangled himself from the bed sheets and got out of bed. Was it a fire alarm or something? He started to panic and look around for a fire exit of some kind before the alarm suddenly stopped and a voice rang out from the intercom. Each room had one. He listened for an explaination to why he was so rudely awakened.

"Good morning everyone, I have a very important 's meeting will be held in the indoor beach." There was a pause. "And yes, we do have an indoor beach." the announcer confirmed. "It's on the first floor, from the elevator, you take a left and it's the door at the end of the hall. It is manditory to attend and is manditory to wear proper swimwear. Girls in bikinis and guys in swim trunks. The meeting will be in one hour, so don't be late." the speaker explained. Arthur was pretty sure Alfred was the speaker.

He sighed. An indoor beach? 'How do you have an indoor beach?' He thought, puzzled. Then he remembered: He had to go to a world meeting in only swim trunks. He blushed. This was going to be embarrassing.

He took off his pajama pants and shirt, leaving him in his boxers. He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror.

He was thin, but he was still pretty toned. He started to pose, and flex his arms. 'Damn, have I always been this sexy?' he thought as he did a rather suggestive pose and winked at the mirror. He suddenly heard a knock on his door and snapped out of it. 'What the bloody hell was I just doing?' he thought as he quickly ran out of the bathroom and opened the dresser, looking for his swim trunks. Each room had an outfit for every type of occasion in the right size, depending on which country stayed in the room. Arthur thought it was a little ridiculous.

"Just a minute" He said over his shoulder to whoever was waiting on the other side of the door. After digging around for a while, he finally found plain, green swimtrunks and quickly changed into them. He threw on a robe and answered the door to see who it was. He opened it to see America grinning at him. Arthur made the mistake of looking at the American's perfectly tanned and toned body. He was perfect.

Arthur started to drift into his own little world until the American spoke up.

"Hey, Arthur, you ain't gonna be at a beach in a robe, are ya?" He asked jokingly. The Brit rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, do you really think I'd go to a meeting in only my swimwear?" He asked.

"...yes. Dude, you said it would be fun! C'mon! Don't be shy!" He said, tugging at the Brit's robe.

He suddenly felt very self-concious around the perfect American. He was nothing compared to Alfred. He slightly pulled away. "I will not humiliate myself in front of everybody by wearing only swim trunks." He said stiffly. This only made the American grin even more.

"Dude, ya have to." He said, no longer giving him a choice, he turned Arthur around and quickly took off his robe before the Brit could protest.

"Hey! Give that back, you bloody tosser!" He said, turning around and grabbing for his robe, but the American lifted the robe high in the air, out of his reach.

"Nope! C'mon, Iggy. You look fine! No need to be so self-concious." he assured.

"Fine...and don't call me that" the Brit said, huffing and crossing his arms, blushing slightly. Alfred just rolled his eyes and smiled.

"C'mon. The meeting is gonna start in, like, thirty minutes, and you might wanna get use to being in the heat before the meeting starts." He said, leading the now very shy Arthur down the hallway and towards the elevator, tossing the robe in a nearby laundry hamper. He pressed a button that led them to the first floor and waited. He looked over at Arthur to see that he was frowning and had a really dark blush. "Oh, c'mon, Iggy, it's not that bad. Why so shy?"

"I'm just n-not use to this sort of thing, t-that's all." He said shyly. He then looked at the American with the sweetest green eyes and America almost lost it. He was so tempted to scoop Arthur up in his arms and hug him for some reason. Well, he had to admit, he was adorable, nobody could deny that. Everyone could agree that his eyes were mesmerizing, but every time Arthur gave him that look, he just couldn't help but go weak in the knees.

"Alfred?...Alfred? America!" the Brit yelled, waving his hand in front of his face.

"Wh...huh? What?!" the American asked, snapping out of his trance.

"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding concerned.

"Yeah, just don't give me that look, puppy dog faces don't work on me, Iggy" He said. That was a lie, a huge lie.

"I wasn't trying to make a puppy dog face, I was just looking at you.."

"Sure, whatever man."

The doors to the elevator opened to the first floor and they got out, taking a left and walking to the end of the hallway. It seems none of the others were there yet.

"Huh, nobody's here yet. Oh well, I'll just unlock it and whenever they're ready, they can just walk in." Alfred thought out loud.

"Do what you want, just unlock the door already." He said. "I just want this meeting to be over."

He unlocked the door and walked in. Light shined from the skylight. It was definately warmer than the rest of the building, probably an extension off to the side of the building, which wold explain the skylight. There were palm trees three stories high, surrounding the edges of the room. The room was tall and apparenly very wide. There were tons of sand all around and a huge pool surrounding at least half of the area. There was a towel hanger filled with about two hundred towels. They were prepared for lots of guests.

He looked around. There was a small shack to the left where you could buy snacks and drinks and to the right, the meeting table. It wasn't really a table there was a bunch of beach chairs in a large circle and no table at all, really.

"You like?" He asked, heading to grab them both towels.

"I guess...I might be about to live through the humiliation." He said jokingly.

"Whatever dude, you have a nice bod! You just need to tan a little!" He said.

The Brit blushed even more (If possible...). "No I don't, You're just saying that." He said a little modest.

"Dude, I wouldn't lie to you. I couldn't if I tried." He said, looking at the Brit with honest blue eyes.

"Oh, well then thank you. I guess it won't be TOO hard being in only swim trunks now." He said.

"Good, I want you to have fun."

The Brit smiled. He seemed to really care. He walked over to the snack station to see what they had. They had snacks from all over the world, even some fish and chips, but he grabbed an American uncrustable. For some reason, it's the only snack he'd choose over any British food, even if it was an American snack, they were just so good. He grabbed a second one for Alfred, he really liked them, too.

He walked over to where Alfred was, he was sitting on a spread out towel. He had spread his towel out next to his aswell. 'How sweet' He thought as he handed the uncrustable to him.

"Thanks, dude! I love these things!" He exclaimed, opening the wrapper and taking a bite.

"I thought you'd like one." He said, sitting down on his towel.

The American looked over. "Dude, ya need a tan, you're almost as white as the bread!" He joked.

Arthur took a bit of the jelly and smeared it on the American's cheek as payback. He chuckled, he looked good even with jelly on his face. The American smeared some jelly on his nose and laughed. They went back and forth until they both ran out of jelly and all they had was peanut butter and bread left.

Once they finished their snack, still jelly-faced, they decided to have a sandball fight. They wet the sand and balled it up, almost like snowballs. So now they had a bunch of jelly on their faces and they were covered in sand, but they were both laughing and making fun of how each other looked. They turned on the stereo and blasted some of their favorite songs, dancing like idiots and laughing.

Alfred was real surprised to see Arthur like this, it was a side he never really got to see, so he had savored it. He was having the time of his life. None of the parties he'd ever been to was ever this fun. Hanging out with Arthur like this made it easy for his to forget all of the stresses of life and all of the late paperwork he hadn't completed yet, or the phone calls he still had to make to his boss and CEOs he didn't even know. He still didn't know what made hanging out with Arthur so relaxing and special. He had locked the door when he wasn't looking to make sure nobody came in to ruin it.

After a while, they started singing along to the songs they knew, pretending they were holding microphones and guitars. They didn't even realize they'd been messing around for about two hours until they heard a loud knock on the door. They froze. Alfred turned off the stereo and they both went to go wash their faces off before opening the door to see a bunch of very angry nations waiting outside. They had been standing there for two hours, but some of them wore smiles because they knew why it was taking so long.

Once everyone got settled into their beach chairs, the meeting started. "So, dudes, this meeting's gonna be all about having fun! Come on, everybody in the water!" The American announced. Some of the countries still seemed shy, but they all got in the water. Once they got a little more comfortable, everybody started splashing and having fun. Some got out to tan. Francis had to be dragged away from Ukraine (Can anyone tell me her human name?) after trying to grope her, Feliciano built another pasta sand castle, and Matthew spilt some maple syrup on the sand.

When Matthew spilt the syrup, Alfred decided to throw the sticky sand at some of the other nations. This got the Brit to laugh.

Everyone was having a great time. It wasn't often they could all get together and have fun like this. Even Switzerland was laughing and enjoying it. Arthur decided to take some pictures. When he was about to take a picture of Alfred, Alfred tried to stop him by blocking with his hand and falling over, making the Brit fall down with him. The American fell on top of the Brit and they both laughed at the suggestive pose they were in.

"Alfred! So naughty" He joked. This made them both laugh even more.

"Whatever, dude, you know I'm hot!" He joked back.

"You just keep telling yourself that" He said, laughing.

They got up and brushed the sand off, that's when they realized they had company. They both blushed a deep shade of red when they realized everyone was watching them with either shocked or amused looks. They both coughed awkwardly. The rest of the 'meeting' went a little awkward for both of them. Once everyone left, they both stayed behind.

"So...wanna go another round with the air guitar?" Alfred asked after a long silence.

"Why not?" The Brit asked, a grin starting to form on his lips.

They turned the stereo up and danced, sang, and played air guitar until they finally just collapsed in laughter onto the sand. Nothing could make this day better.

"Hey, remember when everyone looked at us after I fell on you?"

They both giggled. "That was quite hilarious. The look on some of their faces were absolutely priceless."

"Yeah! That was funny, man"

"Indeed." They both lay in the sand, later deciding to have a little camp out on the beach because they were both too lazy to walk back up to their rooms.


	6. Teasing and Bonding

4.5

The next morning, the American woke up and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He glanced at Arthur and gently woke him up. Then they both just walked up to their rooms, both half asleep.

Once Alfred was in his room, he glanced at the clock. 9:17 a.m. "Awesome. Still have some time to go to the gym. I can't wait to see Arthur fail at lifting weights!" He said to himself, laughing at the thought.

After he showered, he put on a gray muscle shirt and some black shorts that went down to his knees. He put on some socks and black sneakers and then combed his hair. He grabbed his glasses and walked down the hall to Arthur's room.

When he knocked, the Brit opened the door with a surprised look on his face. "Alfred, why are you dressed like that?" He asked.

"Hurry up and change. We're goin' to the gym!" He said.

"Today?" He said, sounding less that excited.

"Yeah! Why not?"

The Brit just sighed and mumbled. "Give me a moment." As he shut the door.

He came back out wearing a green muscle shirt and some...reallt short green shorts...

"Okay, I'm ready. Lets go." He finally said.

"Oh, r-right." He said, snapping out of his very adult thoughts as he guided the Brit into the elevator. Once the doors opened to the second floor, which had a gym, the Brit sighed.

"Why did you choose today to go to they gym?"

"Because. Now come on!" He said, pulling the Brit by his wrist into the gym.

"And good God, do you have a room for everything in this place? You have an indoor pool for Pete's sake!"

"Pretty much! Okay, so what do you wanna do first?" He asked.

"I don't really know...how about we stretch out first, so we don't pull anything." He suggested.

"That's a good idea." He agreed, starting to stretch his arms. "I feel like I'm doing yoga or something, though"

"Oh please, you want to do yoga? We can do yoga."

"Nah, I'm good!" He said quickly. He knew the Brit was a pro at yoga- he could do damn near any position he wanted to.

"That's what I thought," He said, stretching his arms above his head.

"Stretching is boring, can we do something..." He trailed off as the Brit began stretching his legs. They were sexy ass legs, so smooth and mmmm.

"Huh? What were you saying, Alfred?" The Brit asked.

"ah! uh...um..can we do something else...like...uh..." He tried to think of something to say, rubbing his neck nervously. "Lets...um..some weight lifting?"

"Right then. Where are the dumbells?"

"Over here," he said, walking over to a large display of weights on shelves. He followed the American and when they reached them, they began to lift small ones to warm up.

"Okay, lets see who can lift the most!"

They'd been lifting weights for about twenty minutes and the gym was hot, so they were slightly sweaty.

"Okay, sure. Nothing better to do."

"I bet I'll lift the most!" The American said childishly.

They both took seventy-five pound weight and lifted them.

"Hm...you're stronger than you look," The American commented.

"Okay, let's go a little higher. Lets try one hundred and twenty pounds."

"Wow, dude. You're risky, but okay."

The both successfully lifted them.

"Dude! I never knew you were this strong! Let's see how you do with two hundred pounds!" He said enthusiastically.

"I'm not sure if we should..." The Brit said unsurely.

"C'mon, you've gone this far!"

"Mmm...okay..." He said.

They both took a weight and lifted it. Alfred was successful, but the Brit fell forward, stomach landing on the handle.

"Ah! Dammit, Alfred!" He yelled, holding his stomach. He'd landed hard on the handle.

"Sorry, man. Here, I've got'cha," He said, putting down his weight and picking the Brit up bridal style and laying him down on his lap on a nearby bench to examine his torso.

"I told you not to make me lift that much!" He yelled, squirming a little in his lap.

"I'm sorry, calm down..." The American said. He had to make sure the handle didn't hurt him. "I have to look and see if your okay, but you have to take off your shirt for me to see it." He said. That got the Brit to shut up retty quickly.

"WhAAAt?" He asked finally, looking at him like he'd grown another head.

"I need you to take off your shirt..." He repeated.

"Um...o-okay." He said, blushing slightly as he removed his shirt. All he had on were some gym shorts and sneakers and he felt a little uncomfortable that Alfred was examining his bare skin. His blush deepened as he realized just how short his shorts were. They were barcode gym shorts, so they barely even covered a fourth of his thigh.

((look up 'green barcode gym shorts' and you can see what they look like. Beware: If you imagine England in them, you might suffer major nosebleeds and severe blood loss))

'I really need to find some longer shorts...but they are so comfortable...unless your best friend is examing you and it's the only thing you have on!' but he suddenly felt warm and it took him a minute before his eyes widened to the size of plates.

Alfred wasn't looking at his torso, but his legs. He was running his fingers down his calf, seeming strangely interested in them. He knew he should push him away, but he was enjoying the touch- his body began to respond to the touches and he let out a light moan- and quickly sucked in air as he hoped the American didn't hear. After a second, he relaxed. He didn't seem to hear it, but he was still having a hard time concentrating with him caressing his skin. His body started to relax and his eyes slowly slid shut as he leaned toward the American, completely vulnerable to his touch.

His fingers slowly trailed up to his thigh and he wanted to melt. It felt so good and he began to pant, the room felt too hot and was finding it difficult to breathe until he heard footsteps coming from the hall and he was quickly snapped back into reality. He hopped off the American's lap and got his shirt back on right before a certain Switz walked in with a duffel bag.

"Huh? Oh, 'Sup dude? I never knew you came here!" The American said, sounding a little dazed and confused. Arthur, however, quickly grabbed a towel and put it in front of him casually, hoping that the two of them hadn't noticed his current, ahem, problem. (Hint hint, nudge nudge)

"Yes, I come here." He said, not really paying them much attention as he went into the boxing room.

"I think we're done here." The Brit said.

"We should shower, though. Don't wanna be all sweaty all day." He pointed out.

"Well wasn't that obvious? Of course we'd shower!" He said, not really understanding.

"Okay then, lets go." He said, walking into a brightly lit room.

"Um, the door's that way." He said, confused.

"These are the showers, man." The American said.

"WHAT?!" the Brit said a little loud.

"The showers..."

"Oh...um...okay...um..." He tried saying, but just shut his mouth and walked in. It was a clean room with three sinks and a long wall with about five shower heads...but no doors to seperate them. "Um, Alfred? Where are the stalls?"

"What stalls? Dude, it's one big shower." He said casually. The Brit gulped.

"How- why- um...so...uh..." The Brit stumbled for words, but the American ignored him as he took off his shirt and sneakers, turning on one of the shower heads. He took a second to glance at Arthur.

"Hey, aren't ya gonna shower, dude? You're not gonna walk around all day smelling like THAT are you?" He asked.

"No! Of course not! But...why aren't there seperate stalls?" He asked nervously, a deep red coloring his face.

"Because this is the guy's bathroom so girls can't come in. And chill, man. You've seen me plenty of times when I was a kid, and we're both guys."

"W-well you're older now, and...and..."

"Seems like someone's running out of excuses." He said with a laugh. "Stop being such a wimp."

"I am not a wimp!"

"Than prove it." He said, challenging the Brit.

"Fine" He said, taking off his shirt and sneakers and setting them aside. He looked over to see the American staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing" He said quickly as he turned and took off his shorts. The Brit's blush could put red lipstick to shame as he quickly turned around so not to stare.

"C'mon, Arthur~ One more thing left." He said, laughing. He was having so much fun torturing Arthur.

"Why couldn't we just shower in our own rooms again?" He asked.

"Because it's fun torturing you because you get all red and embarrassed." He said. The Brit just sighed.

"Come on, Arthur~"

The Brit gripped the waist line of his shorts, but he couldn't find the balls to do it (XD no pun intended. LMFAO! I worded that so wrong) until suddenly, he felt the American right behind him and he pantsed him. The Brit yelped and, on instinct, covered in between his legs. The American just laughed.

"Just shower, dude."

"The Brit took the furthest shower head, which was placed near a corner so he could turn away to shower.

Once he'd finished, he put on his shorts immediately and sighed, finally relaxing. "I hate you..." He said.

"Nah, you know I'm too irrisistable" He said jokingly, wrapping a towel around his waist and flexing. The Brit rolled his eyes, but he was pretty irrisitable.

"Hey Arthur...dude?"

"Huh?"

"You spaced out again. You need to work on not spacing out so much." He said. He turned around, crossing his arms. "Wow!"

"What?"

"Dude, you have a tattoo?" He said, sounding amazed.

"What do you mean? I do not!"

"Yes you do! It's a big guitar on your back!" He said.

"Oh, that? Yes, well, I was young and irrisponsible. Just don't tell anyone." He said, trying to sound cool. He'd forgotten about it and forgot to hide it when showering.

"I won't."

"Good...are you done torturing me now?" He asked.

"Sadly..." He said, an amused grin on his face."I think I've been mean enough to you today...for now"

The Brit just rolled his eyes as the American put his shorts back on. He reached for his shirt, but he was suddenly being hoisted onto the American's shoulder and carried.

"Hey! Let me down!" He said, making a weak attempt to escape. The American was much stronger. "Someone else is in the gym and my tattoo is showing." He whispered harshly. The American just grabbed a towel and swung it over his back.

"Nope, I ain't lettin' ya go just yet!" He said playfully.

"What's going on here?" The Switz asked, peeking a head through the doorway.

"It's all cool, just wanna mess with Iggy a little."

"Iggy?" He said, arching an eyebrow, face emotionless.

"I mean Arthur. I like calling him names. It bugs him." He said with a big grin.

"Whatever. Just quiet down." He said, walking back into the boxing room.

The American's grin only widened as he began to walk out of the gym and into the hallway.

"What the bloody hell are you doing? We only have shorts on!" He protested. The American just ignored him until the elevator door opened to the first floor and he walked towards the left hallway. The Brit finally realized where he was being carried away to, the indoor beach.

"Really, Alfred? People could see us! We are barely clothed!" He continued to say, but was once again ignored until they were both in the indoor beach and was surprised when the American started RUNNING with him over his shoulder until he came to an abrupt stop right before the water, and he was suddenly being lifted up into the air.

"ALFRED! Don't you dare!" He warned right before he was being thrown into the water with a giant splash.

He resurfaced (Like in the movies where they pop up slowly and spit out water) and gave him the glare of death itself and he couldn't help but laugh his ass off. He looked PISSED and it was hilarious...until he felt something whack the back of his head.

"Ow!" He said, rubbing his head.

"That's what you get." The Brit said, fuming.

"Hey! It's fun messing with you, though."

"Whatever." He said grumpily.

"Come on, lets have a little fun! We're already here."

"Fine, I suppose a little fun wouldn't hurt..."

"You need to lighten up, man!"

"Do not!"

"Do too~"

"Alfred, I do not!" He said, pushing the American away.

"Whatever you say...hey! Lets build a sandcastle!" He suggested.

They both cleared a flat surface of sand and began their work. Once they were finished, they'd built a pretty crappy mermaid.

"I'd totally sleep with her." The American joked, making himself laugh. TheBrit just shook his head and chuckled.

"Not even if you paid me..."

"C'mon, ya know she's hot!" He said, trying to hold back his fits of laughter.

"Yeah, to a caveman she is."

"Whatever man. I'm covered in sand, we should go now. I'm totally pooped out."

"Well don't make a sand trail." He said, handing him a towel from a rack.

"Thanks man" He said, accepting it and wiping off a good amount of sand. They walked back to their seperate rooms, Arthur still a little wet from being thrown into the water.

Alfred walked back to his room with a huge grin on his face. When he was walking, though, he noticed a pink book lying on the floor with the word 'diary' on it near his door.

"Huh?" He picked it up and looked at it. It didn't have a name, so he shrugged and walked into his room, setting it down while he got dressed. Once he combed most of the sand out of his hair, the curiosity was too much and he began reading from the first page.


	7. A Little Secret

Chapter five

Arthur had changed into some tightly fitting jeans, a habbit from when he was a rebel, not risking putting a shirt on because of his back being completely sunburned. He grabbed his journal to write about yesterday, when his phone began to ring. He looked at the caller ID to see who it was. He answered it. "What it is, Alfred? You already gave me a terrible sunburn." He asked, trying to sound annoyed.

_"The lights went out in my room and I'm kind of afraid of the dark..."_ He answered.

He sighed "Oh fine, then. You can come over and do your paperwork in here, but no funny business." He said.

_"Thanks, man! You're the best!"_ He exclaimed right before hanging up.

'How did his lights go out, anyway? They were brand new light bulbs...' The Brit pondered, jotting down yesterday's events and hiding the journal in his book case, ignoring the feeling that something didn't quite seem right. Alfred was going to be there soon and he didn't want him to read his journal. The Brit was so predictable sometimes.

xXx

The American had just gotten out of the shower, a towel hanging loosely off his waist. He shook his head like a dog, getting some of the water out of his hair. He walked over to the mirror and started his usual routine of flexing and checking himself out before everything went dark. He squeaked in surprise.

"What the hell?" He asked, looking around. He tested the light switch, nothing happened. He checked the sink, toilet, and shower. The water still worked. He checked the TV, stereo, and everything else he had that plugged in. Nothing worked. He grabbed his cell phone and called Arthur. He sat on his bed, still only in his towel, curled up in a ball. This was scary, like one of those horror movies he saw a couple of nights ago.

_"What is it Alfred? You already gave me a terrible sunburn."_ He said.

"The electricity went out in my room and I'm kind of afraid of the dark..." He explained.

_"Oh fine, then. You can come over and do your paperwork in here, but no funny business."_ He said with a sigh.

"Thanks, man! You're the best!" He exclaimed right before hanging up.

He hopped out of his bed, forgetting he was only wearing a towel, grabbed the paperwork off of his desk, and darted to Arthur's room.

xXx

"Okay, this ought to do the trick" Elizaveta said, pressing a few buttons and flipping a few switches. She snuck into the power room, taking almost an hour to find the powerbox that controlled the electricity in Alfred's room. She looked at the computer monitors. There was a whole wall of screens, one of each room.

Once she pressed some buttons and switches, she looked to see that Alfred's room was much darker than the rest. She smiled in satisfaction, knowing that most of the countries were out in the city, or out for lunch. Alfred and Arthur had slept until noon, so they were almost the only ones still in the building, save for a couple of others.

Alfred was scared of the dark, so it was a piece of cake. She just turned off the power to his room and he'd go crying to Arthur.

Her room was placed right next to Arthur's, so yesterday she'd drilled a small peep hole into the wall, but it was well hidden and hard to spot. She walked back into her room and waited, reading some of her yaoi. She had a slight obsession with yaoi and she just loved to meddle. 'I mean, who wouldn't agree that Arthur and Alfred were meant to be together? They would make such an adorable couple!' She thought, squealing. She was going to get them together, even if it's the last thing she does.

xXx

Alfred was almost to Arthur's room, but then he was stopped by Francis. "Mon ami, what's ze rush? Are you really zat excited to see Arthur?" He asked, a smile gracing his lips.

"No! The power went out in my room so I decided to go to Arthur's room." He explained.

"In only a towel?" He asked, arching an eyebrow and smirking. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one side, waiting for an answer.

"Wha-?" He asked, looking down. "Oh, well, I just got out of the shower when the power went out. I guess I forgot to put some actual clothes on. I guess I'm just going to have to borrow some of Artie's" He said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand and laughing.

The Frenchman laughed. "I've notice zat you and Arthur 'ave gotten quite close. It 'as only been a few days and you two are almost inseperateable." He said with a knowing tone.

The American had't noticed it, though. "Well, yeah. We have started hanging out a lot, huh?"

" I've just never seen two people become so close so quickly."

"Yeah, we're tighter than skinny jeans, man. We tell each other everything!" He said enthusiastically.

"Everything? Are you sure?"

"Yeah!"

"Then you could tell me who our dear Arthur iz secretly crushing on, non?"

"Uh..." He scratched his head. "I don't know..." He admitted.

"Then I guess he 'asn't told you everything. You might want to work on zat if you want to be, ahem, as tight as skinny jeans with Arthur, as you Americans would put it." He said, pating the American's shoulder and heading off in the other direction.

'Huh...I guess I don't know EVERYTHING...I wonder who he would have a crush on...' He thought, walking up to Arthur's door. He knocked three times and waited. When the door opened, he was greeted by Arthur, who went a little pink in the cheeks.

"May I ask why you are only wearing a t-towel?"

"The power went out right after I got out of the shower." He explained.

"You c-couldn't change in the d-dark? It couldn't have been t-that dark for you not to be able to s-see." The Brit's blush darkened at seeing how low the towel was sitting on his hips.

"Well, I panicked a little, okay? Can I come in?" Oblivious to how flustered the Brit was becoming.

The Brit stepped to the side and closed the door after the American walked in and plopped himself on his bed.

"Can I offer you some clothes?" He asked, turning around, trying to stop himself from checking the American out. He hasn't had this problem when they were at the beach, so why now? Maybe because he was too busy being self-concious to notice before, but damn he was hot.

"That would be awesome."

Arthur dug around in his drawers, bending down in the process.

'Daaaayuuuuum, dat ass...what the hell did I just...'He shook his head. 'no no no! He's a guy and he's your friend...but dat ass...It would be perfect -'

"Here, see if these fit. They're a little big on me, so they might fit you" He said, handing him the folded jeans and some boxers and snapping Alfred out of his guilty thoughts before he got something he didn't want. (Ohonhonhon~)

"Thanks, man" He said, grabbing the clothes and standing up. The Brit just shrugged.

He walked into the bathroom and changed. When he walked out, the Brit's back was to him as he saw the guitar tattoo. 'It makes him so much hotter...DAMMIT! I think I'm turning gay or something, he is just my friend!'

"We should probably get started on our paperwork. Since I only have one desk, to be fair, we'll just sit on the bed and work." He said.

"Fine, whatever"

They both lay flat on their stomachs, their head and arms hanging off the edge as they did their paperwork, which lay on the floor in front of them. They did this for about five minutes before Alfred spoke up. "This is booooriiiiing."

"Try having a sunburn. If I put a shirt on, it'll hurt like hell, but if I don't, it's hot and cold at the same time. anyway, what do you propose we do?"

"Sorry...anyway, lets play the Questiong Game!" He said enthusiastically.

The Brit perked up a little, but tried to hide his excitement. "Why not? Okay, you can start."

"Okay...let's see...have you ever had a girlfriend?" He asked, curious. He'd never had any girlfriends around when he was a kid, but he had to have had a girlfriend at least once in his life.

"W-well, I-there's something I should probably t-tell you..."

"Yeah? What is it?" He asked, turning his attention from his paperwork to the blushing Brit.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to say it "I'm gay"

Alfred nearly dropped his pen in shock. "Really? I had no idea, man." He said."So, let me rephrase the question: Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

"Y-you're okay with it?" Arthur asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Sure! Why wouldn't I be? You are who you are, you're still my bro!" He said easily. Arthur just about lost it. He started to cry and curl up on his bed. He was so happy and relieved that someone accepted him for the way he was. He had always been rejected by everyone else, but Alfred accepted him. Always had.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He started to chant inbetween sobs, rocking back and forth.

"Hey, it's alright." The American soothed, rubbing comforting circles on the Brit's back, being careful not to touch the sunburnt part. "What's wrong?" He asked in a surprisingly soft tone.

"N-nothing is w-wrong. I-it's j-ust that...n-nobody has ever a-acce-epted me like y-you have" He said between sobs.

"Ooooh, I see. Do you need a tissue?" He asked in his soft tone, reaching for the tissues on his night stand.

"Y-yes pl-lease" He said, accepting the tissue he was handed and wiping away tears, which were just replaced with fresh ones.

"Look at me"

The Brit shook his head, keeping his face hidden.

Alfred gently pushed the Brit's chin and up to look at him. His eyes shone with emotion and he felt something stir in him when he looked into the green orbs. "I will always accept you for who you are. Everyone else who has rejected you were wrong. You're perfect, don't change who you are, because I like you just like this. I'll never let anyone hurt you again, I promise. Just remember that I'll always be here for you. Everyone who has rejected you has missed out on having the best bro ever. I couldn't ask for a better friend." He said, wiping away the freshly shed tears with his thumbs. "And if you don't want anyone else to know, it will just be our little secret then." He said, giving him a warm smile.

"Now come on, lets get you cleaned up" He said in the same gentle tone, grabbing the Brit's hand and guiding him to the bathroom sink to wash his face.

xXx

Elizaveta almost died trying not to scream. She had watched through her peep hole and she couldn't believe something could be so sweet. She clasped her hands over her mouth, trying not to squeal. 'TOO CUTE! OMG!' They were getting closer, she just knew it. 'Just a little push is all they need...' She thought, starting to plan out a 'coincidental encounter' that will get them to finally get together and live happily ever after...or at least that's how she thought about it as...

She suddenly heard a knock on her door and she opened it to see Gilbert smiling down at her. She blushed and let him in.

"Is your stingy musician gonna be out today?" He asked.

"Yes" She said, feeling a pang of guilt.

"Good" He said, walking towards her and pressing her into the bed.

xXx

"'Ow can he be so blind? Zey love each other and Alfred iz too stupid to see it! Arthur loves him, but he zhinks Alfred doesn't, and Alfred loves Arthur, but he just doesn't know it yet. It's just like one of zose cliche romance movies! I can't take seeing zem like zis. Zhere 'as to be something I can do..." Francis thought aloud, starting to plan out a way to get them together.

"Francis, leave them alone and just let nature take its course." The soft-spoken Canadian advised.

"I am so sorry, my little maple, but I just can't 'elp seeing too people in love and not know it." He said with apologetic eyes.

The Canadian giggled. "Oh Francis, always so nosy. Don't call me that, my name is Matthew, you know."

"Oh, but Matthew, you are just so beautiful..."

"Francis, please. Not going to work..." He said, until he looked over and saw the Frenchman's puppy face. He sighed.

"Fine, just don't end up accidentally ruining their friendship- or relationship...if they ever do become a couple. They'd be so cute together."

"Just like you and me?"

"We're not together, Francis. Keep dreaming." He said, trying to sound annoyed, but secretly amused.


	8. Detective Modeling

Chapter six

_knock knock knock_

Arthur was awakened by a knock at his door. He got out of bed and went to answer the door. Too tired to realize he was still in only a pair of jeans, he opened the door.

"Who the bloody hell is it?" He asked moodily, rubbing his eyes.

"Hello! I was wondering if you and Alfred wanted to help me test something out!" The Hungarian said enthusiastically, seeming unphased by his moody tone and lack of proper attire.

He glaced at the clock. "At five in the morning?" He asked in a very tired tone.

"Why not? The meeting is in four hours and I need someone to test it out right now, before the meeting. Pleeeease?"

""Please, Iggy?" The American said, suddenly popping up behind Eliaveta.

"When did you wake up?" The Brit asked, raising his eyebrows. The American was never up this early.

"Just now. So, can we, Arthur? Can we?" He asked, clasping his hands together.

The Brit sighed. He was already awake and he didn't really have anything to do, so why not? "Fine. What is it?"

"Just get dressed real quick and meet me outside your door and I'll show you where to go!" She said.

"Oh! Excuse me, I didn't realize I wasn't properly dressed." He lied, he kind of did, but he just didn't care. He wasn't fat and he at least had pants on.

"Oh, it's no problem. Now hurry, we'll be waiting." She said.

He closed the door and quickly threw on a shirt and brushed his teeth, not wanting to keep her waiting.

Alfred was wearing a shirt that was rather tight on him. "Fuck!" The Brit exclaimed when he walked out into the hallway and saw the American in the shirt. Saying he looked sexy was an understatement. His hair was tossled, the shirt tight and nearly see-through, his glasses were being twirled around in his hand, and he was leaning on the wall. He didn't get a good look at him before, but now, when he did, he couldn't keep his eyes off of him.

"Huh? What is it?" He asked.

"N-nothing." He said.

"Okay, now let's go try it out!" The American said, shrugging off the Brit's random curse.

"Okay!" She said, guiding them down the hall.

They came to a stop in front of a large door. Eliaveta turned around and looked at them. "Now, you promise not to back down?" She asked, looking mainly at Arthur.

"Promise" The American said entusiastically. After the Brit didn't say anything, Alfred nudged him. "C'mon! It'll be fun, Arthur!"

"I don't know, Alfred..."

"Pweeeease?"

"Don't even try that, Alfred!" The Brit warned, but when he looked up, he cracked. "Fine, I promise." He said, crossing his arms.

"Okay, let's do some modeling!" She said, opening the door and ushering them inside.

"W-what?!" The Brit asked as he was being pushed into a lage room with cameras and bright lights.

"Now you promised that you wouldn't back down. So you have to!" She said, giggling. "I wanted to test out my new camera and photo-taking skills. Here are your costumes"She said, grabbing some clothes from a nearby rack and shoving them into their hands. "The dressing rooms are over there" She said, pointing to some curtains on the right. "Hurry up!"

Arthur walked over th the changing rooms cautiously, not sure if he should be agreeing to doing this, until Alfred pushed him into one of the rooms. "Hurry up, man! This is gonna be fun!"

Arthur took a look at the costume he'd been given. It was a pink nurse dress with a small nurse hat and knee-high stockings and some pink heels. He blushed until his face was scarlet. This was going to be embarrassing, but Alfred was really excited about it. Okay, he could do this. 'This is for Alfred' He kept reminding himself as he changed into the costume. The dress went down to only his upper thighs. He tried pulling it down lower, but with no success. He took a deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room.

...

Alfred looked at the clothing in his hand. A single black apron, some shirt cuffs, a shirt collar, and a pair of knee-high black boots. He gulped, blushing a little. Maybe he dropped something? He peeked out from the curtain and looked around. Nothing was on the ground. Was he only suppose to wear this? Oh well, he wanted to know who the diary belonged to, and it said something about being a model. He knew it was a pink diary, but that could just be a disguise, so he decided that it could be Arthur's because it had the exact same handwriting as his.

He shyly undressed, leaving his boxers on, and tying the small apron on. It didn't have a back and he wasn't going to be showing anyone his bare ass. Then he zipped on the black boots, which were surprisingly comfortable. He then put on the collar and cuffs, which were rather itchy. Who buys only the cuffs and collar to a shirt? Oh well, it kind of made him feel sexy...but what was Arthur going to wear?

'I bet he looks awesome! I can't wait to see his! It looked pink, but I didn't get a good look.' He thought before stepping out of the dressing room.

...

Once they both stepped out, (coincidentally at the same time) they both turned to see the other's costume. They both wore expressions of shock, embarrassement, and amusement.

"So boys, you ready for your photoshoot?" She asked, putting down a magazine and smirking, snapping them both out of their daze and turning their attention to her rather than each other.

"Shyeah! Never tried modeling, but it sounds pretty fun!" He said enthusiastically.

"I guess" The Brit said, rubbing his neck and blushing even more, if it were possible.

"Great!" She said, clasping her hands together and smiling excitedly. "Now, I have everything set over there." She said, pointing towards a brightly lit stage.

They all walked over and onto the stage, being careful to keep their clothes covering them. Arthur wobbled a little in his heels, but managed not to trip.

"Oh, this won't due! Alfred! You still have your boxers on!"

"W-what?!" He said, blushing as he looked at Elivaveta.

"It ruins the costume!" She said. "Don't you want to look good?"She asked, trying to persuade him.

"...fine" He said hesitantly, taking off the boxers and blushing a deep red as he put them with the rest of his clothes.

"Why exactly do you have us in such...revealing costumes?" The Brit asked, pulling at the hem of his dress. "And why did you give me a dress?" He asked.

"They are costumes my manager wanted me to have the models wear for the shoot. Sorry, but it does look good on you!" She said.

"Wait, what?! People will see the pictures?!" The Brit asked, a horrified expression on his face. Eliaveta just laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll edit your faces out so nobody will know. Trust me."

"Okay..." The Brit said, unsure if he should trust the Hungarian.

"'Kay, I'm all set! Lets get started already!" The American said.

"The sooner I can get out of this dress, the better. Lets get this over with." The Brit said.

"Okay, just strike a few poses on the stage and I'll tell you when I've finished testing out my new camera." She instructed.

"Sure thing!" The American said, pulling Arthur onto the brightly lit part of the stage. The Brit stumbled a little, squinting in the bright light. He stood there, not knowing what to really do until Eliaveta walked up and turned on the camera, and suddenly something went off in his head. He grabbed Alfred's arm and yank him towards him.

"Come on, we can't just stand here." He said in a low voice.

"I-i guess." The American said, his voice a little shaky.

"What's wrong? You sound a little nervous." He said, cupping the Americans cheek, leaning in close and lifting his left heel off the ground slightly, showing off his perfect legs. (asdfghjkl!)

"N-no. What makes you t-think that?" He asked, stiffening when the Brit's soft hand caressed his cheek.

"You're warm. Do you need to cool off?" He asked seductively, putting a hand on his chest.

"N-no, I'm fine." He couldn't believe how the Brit was acting. Who knew just being in front of a camera could make Arthur so much more outgoing? He was born to be a model, he had the perfect body for it and he was great in front of a camera. He seemed to be having a lot more fun than himself, who was now starting to sweat a little.

The Brit suddenly smiled as he whispered a few strange words to spell (that made the other person feel what they felt) (I know it's stupid, but it's all I got, so deal). Suddenly, the American didn't seem so shy. He grabbed the Brit's hips and turned him around, pressing himself up against the Brit's back. Arthur leaned his head back, nuzzling into the American's neck and rubbing the back of his right heel on the American's leg. It was a very cute but sexy pose.

'This is getting GOOOD' the Hungarian thought as she took some pictures.

The Brit smiled wickedly as he tripped Alfred, knocking him to the ground. Arthur spun around and stepped on the American's shoulder, keeping him in place as he grabbed an over-sized syringe off of a prop table. He had the needle on the ground, using it as an arm rest as he leaned forward on it, showing off his perfect ass. (Admit it, Arthur has a perfect ass! ...yes, even Germany has to admit it. It's PERFECT! but Spain's is pretty damn sexy, too...)

God, Arthur looked DEAD sexy in that dress, even Alfred had to admit that. He pushed the over-sized prop to the side, making the Brit fall onto his hands and knees, the American under him. It was a very suggestive pose, and that just encouraged the Brit even more. He crawled off of the American and began to do some solo poses, making the American blush.

He looked so _**hot**_, but then he suddenly remembered that he was only wearing a small apron and quickly grabbed a prop to cover himself because he was about to get something he didn't want. Arthur just kept striking such amazing poses and he just couldn't take it anymore. The Brit was sitting with his legs spread as he rested on his knees and touched his lips lightly with his finger tips. His eyes half lidded and his chin pushed out slightly to make the sexiest expression he had ever seen. (asdfghjkl)

He suddenly pushed the Brit to lay on the floor as he hovered over him on his hands and knees, just like before but vice versa. Arthur had a slightly shocked expression at the unexpected action, but played along, wrapping his arms loosely around the American's neck and pulling his face closer to his, smirking. He knew EXACTLY what was going on with Alfred, and he was enjoying it.

"DAMMIT!" The Hungarian suddenly yelled. They both snapped out of their daze to look at Eliaveta, who was now fiddling with the camera. "Is it dead already?! No!" She whined.

The Brit looked at the American and quickly crawled out from under him with a look of embarrassement and horror. What had he been doing?! The American seemed to realize as well and quickly got up, blushin' scarlet. They both stepped away from each other, looking at the ground as Eliaveta continued to fiddle with her camera.

"Darn. I guess that's the end of your photo shoot! You two were great! Especially you, Arthur! You're amazing in front of a camera, you should be a model or something. Anyways, you two can go change and leave now." She said.

They both got dressed and left without a word, both going to their seperate rooms, still blushing.

...

Back in the theater, Eliaveta chuckled. That was perfect. 'They were all over each other! If only I could've gone longer, but I don't want them to get together just yet, this is too much fun, plus I got myself some more yaoi.' (Just for the slow people, like me, she pretended the camera was dead) She thought as she transferred the pictures onto her computer and onto her thumb drive.

She walked out of the theater and began walking to her room, mumbling about something, too deep in thought to realize someone else wasn't paying attention either and they both bumped into each other and she dropped the thumb drive and it skidded down the hallway and under a door. 'Crap!' She thought as she looked up to see Francis, who was also seemed to be in deep thought.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, I wasn't paying attention." He apologized.

"It's no problem." She said.

Once he left in the other direction, she began to look for the thumb drive. The meeting started in ten minutes and she needed to find the thumb drive before anyone else did. The only thought running through her head was 'crap crap crap crap crap!'.

* * *

Okay, I was too lazy to put in any author notes in the other chapters...but I'm also in a rush so I had to fix up the story before school-which is tomorrow. So, anyways, I hope you like the remake of the story so far, and please review. Thank you for continuing to read this story! Oh, and credit to .xX ! She started the story!


	9. A Picture

Feliciano frantically searched for his thumb drive. The meeting was in ten minutes and he was going to give a presentation on pasta. The state his room was in wasn't helping. There were clothes and items scattered all around his floor, he wasn't very clean. He dug around for about five minutes until he found a thumb drive lying near the door next to one of his many white flags. He picked it up and cheered.

"I found it! I better hurry, or the meeting will start without me!" He said, running out of the room and down the hallway, passing a very frustrated Eliaveta who was crawling on the floor, seeming to be looking for something. 'I should stop and help her...but Ludwig will be very angry if I am late' He thought, running even faster until he made it to the room where the meeting was being held and burst through the doors.

"Italy, hurry up and sit down, the meeting vill be starting soon." Ludwig said.

"Okay~" He said, sitting down in his usual seat, plastering his signature clueless expression. 'Why is Ludwig so mean? Does he hate me?'

Moments later, and angry Eliaveta walked in and sat down. 'Huh? Why does she look so angry? I hope she doesn't hurt me, I don't like being hurt' He thought fearfully.

"I call this meeting to order! Ve don't have much to discuss, so ve'll skip ahead to some of the presentations that we didn't get through last time." The German explained.

"Germany! Can I go first?" The Italian asked enthusiasically. The German just sighed.

"Yes, Italy. You can go first."

'Awwwh, why doesn't Ludwig like me?' "Grazie! Ve~" He walked up and put the thumb drive in the projector and walked up to the podium to begin his presentation.

People started gasping and giggling, some wearing expressions of total shock.

"Huh? What's wrong?" He asked, very confused.

(This is a picture that is similar to the one they saw, but it's a white nurse suit and he is wearing flats for some reason)

s334. photobucket albums/ m415/ cele-chann/ Hetalia/ LOL/ ?action=view¤t= 1262640922867. gif&

(take out the spaces)

"Ue-hu-ah-nu..." The Brit sat frozen in his seat, his face screamed 'wtf'. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide and blank, his face red with embarrassement. Alfred just laughed. He wasn't in the picture so he didn't have to worry about it, and the look on the Brit's face was priceless.

"Ohonhonhon, what iz zis, mon ami? Someone likes to roleplay. I would 'ave never guessed, Angleterre." The Frenchman said, staring at the picture with an amused look.

"Shut up, you bloody git! For all you know, it's photoshopped! Do you really think I'd do something so disgusting willingly?!" He yelled.

"You kind of did, bro." Alfred said, glancing at him and with an amused smirk. His face was red, but he tried to look unphased by seeing the suggestive picture.

"How the bloody hell would you know?" He said grumpily, kicking the American under the table, trying to signal him to pretend it never happened. He either didn't get the hint, or just enjoyed seeing him like this because he just continued.

"You know, you look good in dresses, Iggy." He said, teasing the Brit.

"'Belt up, you git! I do not look good in dresses! And don't call me that!" He sid moodily, still blushing a deep red.

"Come on, England, lighten up. You look good in that picture. Other girls would be jealous cause you rocked that dress better than anyone. Modelin' is your thaaaang." He said, bringing out his southern drawl. He smirked, knowing how much the Brit secretly liked it.

The Brit stiffened. 'Bloody hell, of all times...' He bit his lip. "It's clearly photoshopped, I mean, my face is paler than the body." He tried to argue.

"That's because you still have a little bit of a sunburn."The American reminded.

The Brit growled as he walked up and yanked the thumb drive out of the projector.

"Awwwh, come on, Artie. Ya seemed ta be enjoyin' it when ya were posin'." He said in his southern accent.

"Alfred, I've told you a thousand times, don't use that ridiculous accent. It makes you sound unintellegent." He said.

"Suuuure ya don't like it." He said, clearly not convinced.

"I don't, I don't know why you think I would. Anyway, I would never pose like that-or wear something like that. It's photoshopped. Now, can we just forget this incident and go on with the meeting?" He asked, trying to look calm but annoyed, but his face was still a deep red, which gave him away.

"Fine" The American said, secretly relieved that the photo had been taken off the screen, because if it was kept up there any longer, he'd have to go take a really cold shower. (hint, hint)

They all sat there, bored as hell, because Ludwig was giving a speech on something Alfred really wasn't paying attention to. Suddenly, he felt something slip under the paper in front of him. He checked and saw a folded piece of paper. He opened it.

_Alfred! I can't believe you didn't take my side! Now everyone thinks I really did do something like that! -Arthur_

He chuckled silently, writing a reply on the folded piece of paper and slipping it towards Arthur, who looked to see it in front of him. He opened it.

_Well I suck a lying, and c'mon! You looked good in it, even if it was a dress. How are you so good at modeling, anyway? -A bored Hero_

He rolled his eyes at the last part, but wrote a response anyway. Ludwig started to notice Arthur and Alfred exchanging some sort of paper and grew suspicious.

Once the note was passed to Alfred, he opened it and read.

_Well wouldn't you want to know - Arthur_

'That little-arh! He thinks he's so funny' He thought, furiously writing a response and passing it to him.

_C'mon! Please tell me? Pretty please? Don't make me pull the puppy dog face~- The Hero_

They continued to exchange notes.

_That is my business, and don't you dare do that damned face -Arthur_

_I will if you won't tell me~ - The Hero_

_You git, I will NOT tell you. -Arthur_

Alfred was about to get his puppy dog face on when Ludwig suddenly annouced that lunch be held early.

" I think ve all need a break. The meeting vill be stalled and ve'll all have lunch early. Everyone seems to be worn out." The German annouced. Everyone mumbled in agreement and shuffled out of the room. Eliaveta tried to escape and get out of the room without being seen by the Brit. She was so screwed if he found her.

"Hello, Eliaveta." She froze. Crap. He found her.

She turned around slowly and laughed nervously. "Oh, hello England. Hehe..."

"I just wanted to know where Italy had gotten such a picture and I thought you would know." He said in a kind but deadly tone.

"W-well, I was just walking down the hallway and was bumped by France and I dropped the thumb drive and couldn't find it. I guess Italy found it and thought it was his thumb drive. Hehe..."

"I see, and why were the pictures on a thumb drive?"

"I transferred the pictures from my camera to a computer to the thumb drive so I could edit the pictures on my computer."

"Hm...and why didn't you just bring your camera and put them on your computer in the first place?" He asked, his voice low and menacing.

"I-i guess I wasn't thinking. Hehe...look, I'll just explain to everyone that I photoshopped the picture, okay? Just...don't hurt me." She said in a whisper, shrinking under his cold gaze.

"That would be lovely. Now, I should be off. I have some things to do before the meeting is back in order." He said, walking away.

She wiped her forehead in relief and thanked the Heaven she was still alive. She was certain she was dead. "Maybe I should try a better way to meddle...a way that doesn't get me nearly killed." She mumbled to herself, noting to bash Alfred's head in with a frying pan later. She wasted money on a camera and almost got killed for him.

'Hm...maybe I should try some of the obvious stuff first, like pushing them into each other in the hallway 'accidentlly'' She thought.

xXx

He chuckled. How Feliciano got the picture, he did not know, but he thought it was genius. Someone had obviously gotten the Brit to do something so seductive just to see the American's reaction. If only he knew who had done such genius work. It put his plan to shame, but it wasn't going to stop him.

He was going for the more cliche methods. He had tested the methods with tons of humans before and the cliche seemed to work wonders. He was going to start his plan tomorrow. He was going to get Arthur and Alfred together no matter what. He was the country of l'amour, he could get any two people together.

xXx

Arthur smirked. He knew what had happened to Alfred while they were shooting. The only reason people kept saying he was a great model was because he use to be a model, but nobody knew. It was his little secret. Whever he said he was busy or leaving for work, he had been sneaking off to photoshoots and whatnot. Of course he would never tell anyone else that. He enjoyed being in front of a camera with somehing sexy on, it made him feel good. He was a professional at the time, but he knew if he became too famous, someone he knew was bound to find out, so he quit.

He sat in his room, chuckling. It was embarrassing to have everyone he knew see him in something like that, posing like that, but he also found it quite amusing. Alfred was absolutely red in the face, but he tried so hard to play it off cool. He thought he was clever and pulled off his southern drawl he usually hid, which almost worked...almost. The Brit had had a lot of practice with holding onto his self control, no matter how hard someone tried.

He loved acting like an innocent gentleman, it made him laugh at how easily he could trick people. He knew it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but it was just too fun. Once he had a good laugh, he grabbed his journal and wrote about what had happened so far that day, for it was rather eventful and it was daily ritual.

xXx

Alfred dashed into the bathroom to wash his face. His face was on fire and the image of Arthur in that outfit being stuck in his head wasn't helping at all.

Once he splashed some water on his face, getting the floor around him wet, he looked in the mirror, gripping the side of the sink, and tried to get himself together. What the hell was he thinking? Arthur was just a friend, he shouldn't be thinking like that, especially when Arthur use to be his brother and care taker...why did thinking about Arthur being his former care taker make him feel so warm? Was he geting turned on by this?! Oh God he felt so screwed up. But they were countries, so it didn't really matter, right? Yeah.

Once he got himself to calm the fuck down, he walked out of the bathroom and decided to go talk to France. He would probably be able to help him.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks- He'd just a photoshoot with his best friend...who was gay...was that why he was acting so seductive...? Wait...holy crap! He stopped dead in his tracks and his jaw dropped to the floor. He leaned against the wall in shock, slowly slipping down into a sitting position while he held his head in his hands. Was the journal really Arthur's? It had so many things that he remembered doing with Arthur in it, and it said something about modeling, and he seemed to be a damn good model...did he really read Arthur's journal? "What the hell..." He said in an almost inaudible whisper.


	10. Suspicions

Chapter 8

"Where IS it?!" He yelled, frantically searching the same drawer for the sixth time. His room, which was usually spotless, was not littered with clothes and various items from drawers and shelves. He'd been searching for about an hour for his journal.

When he first woke up, he gotten out his journal to write something, but the feeling that something was wrong was overwhelming and he examined the journal, finding that it was a fake, he panicked and frantically searched his room, trasing it in the process.

Suddenly, he froze as everything clicked. Lost journal, fake journal. Someone took it. "Impossible..." He said, a look of pure horror on his face. Who had it? The only person he had ever had it around was Alfred, but he was a small lad at the time and probably just thought it was another book. He grabbed a pen and a notepad from the floor and sat on his now sheetless mattress. He made a list of everyone twhose room was on the same floor.

Feliciano - idiot

Ludwig - busy

Lovino - idiot

Francis

Rodrich - doubt it

Alfred

Eliaveta

Once he crossed off the least likely suspects, he had narrowed the list down to onl three people. Eliaveta, Alfred, and Francis. Eliaveta was always doing things behind Rodrich's back, everyone knew that, so she was a likely suspect. Francis was really good at escaping, so he was probably good with locks. Alfred? He was always in his room. He couldn't really take any of them off the list until he did some investigating.

He got up and began cleaning his room before he left to begin his investigating. The sooner he found the journal, the better.

When he was putting the sheets back on his bed, he spotted something. He moved a pillow out of the way and found a small hole in the wall. How long it had been there, he did not know. but how it got there was the more important question. He peeped through it and what he saw shocked him. Eliaveta seemed to have just been waking up...with Gilbert in her bed. His jaw dropped. He wasn't sure if he should tell Rodrich, or leave it alone.

...

Eliaveta opened her eyes, the light from the window forcing her to squint to see. She tried to get up, but something was holding her down by her waist. Looking over, she saw a sleeping albino, his arm thrown across her midsection. She gently lifted it as she eased herself off the bed and tip-toed towards the bathroom.

Once she finished showering, she put on a pink casual dress and began putting on her make-up. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt every time she thought of Rodrich. She loved him...but she loved Gilbert, too. She knew it was wrong and if he ever found out, he'd be devastated.

"Good morning, beautiful"

She jumped, looking over to see Gilbert leaning against the door frame, still shirtless and the light from the window giving his skin a glowing appearance. Her heart clenched.

"Good morning, Gilbert," She said flatly. The albino sighed, resting his head on the door frame.

"What's wrong?" He asked tiredly.

"Nothing. What makes you think there's something wrong?" She asked.

"You have a brooding face on. Tell me what's the matter, please?" He said, walking up behind the Hungarian and wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled softly. "It's nothing, really," She said, looking down.

"Okay, whatever you say. Now, let me see that beautiful smile." He said, lifting his head and looking at her, smiling lazily. She smiled and he kissed her softly, tilting her chin up. They heard a tap on the room door and froze.

"That's probably Rodrich, you better hurry. You'll have to go out the window, sorry." She said, practically running and pushing him out of the window with his shirt.

She quickly shut the window and went to answer the door, smiling when she did. "Hello, Rodrich." She said, hugging the man in the doorway. He walked in as she shut the door, looking down, guilt stabbing at her before she turned and smiled at him.

...

Arthur couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He leaned back onto the wall, trying to make sense of it all. Eliaveta was cheating on Rodrich? For how long? Was he dreaming? First his journal went missing, and then he saw Eliaveta with Gilbert, cheating on Rodrich. A lot had happened that morning.

Once he got over the shock, he climbed off his bed and decided to visit Francis.

...

Once at Francis's door, he hesitantly knocked, not really sure _why_he'd wanted to talk to the Frenchman in the first place. The door almost flew open, a tall blond appearing on the other side.

"Angleterre, mon ami! What brings you here?" He asked, glee written all over his face.

"I just wanted to visit, we haven't talked in a while." He lied. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow in question, but moved to let him in as he shut the door.

"Make yourself at home, mon ami. Would you like some wine?" He asked.

"No thank you," He said, sitting in a leather chair.

"Non? Oh well, more for moi." He said, pouring himself a glass and taking a seat at his desk, turning the chair around to face the Brit.

"Now, what really brings you here, Angleterre?" He asked, leaning forward with his legs crossed, holding his drink out to his left.

"Nothing in particular, I just...honestly had nothing better to do..." He said, looking around, hoping to find his journal.

"Really? I don't believe you..." He said, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip.

"And why not?" The Brit asked stiffly.

"Because you never want to just 'come see me'. You eizher want zomething or you're desperate for company." He said, eyeing the Brit curiously.

The Brit huffed. "What? I can't come visit you every once in a while?" He retorted.

"Non, it's just not zomething you'd do willingly...unless you want zomething..." He said, studying the Brit, noting that he seemed to be looking around for something. "Is zere zomething you're looking for?"

"What? No, what makes you think I'm looking for something?" The Brit said a little too fast. The Frenchman just raised a unbelieving eyebrow.

"Okay, now I _know_ there's zomething wrong. What iz it, Angeterre? Did you and Amerique get into an argument? I saw 'im freaking out in the bathroom ze other day and zen you come knocking at my door. Iz zere zomething you are not telling me?" He asked.

"What?Why would he be freaking out? We weren't arguing. We're perfectly fine, and it would be none of your business, anyway." He said.

"So, Angleterre, tell me. 'ave you two figured it out?" He asked, leaning in closer, eager for the answer.

"Figured what out, frog?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Do you remember our last conversation?"

He did, actually. He knew what the frog had been talking about, he just didn't _want_ to talk about it. "Yes, I remember, frog. Why do you care?"

"Because you tell me everything, mon ami. Even if you deny it later, you've always told me everything. You know zat."

The Brit gulped. He had always told the Frenchman everything, true. Why he did, he did not know, he guessed it was a 'frenemy' thing. "Well...we certainly have gotten, ahem, closer."

"Oh, why are you getting so red, mon chere? Iz zere zomething you are not telling me?" He asked, an amused tone.

"W-well, sometimes, for example, at the gym, you know how I have gym shorts? Well, they apparently are very short, and I fell and hurt myself, so Alfred told me to take my shirt off to check for any injuries...and he sat me on his lap." He didn't know why he was telling the Frenchman this, it was embarrassing, but his mouth wouldn't stop moving. "And instead of examining my stomach, he was...well...he seemed to be rather...eh...distracted..."

"What do you mean, mon ami?" He asked, leaning in closer, a smirk plastered on his face.

"H-he was rather interested in my, ahem, legs, and, well, he almost got a little carried away before Vash walked in and he thankfully stopped."

"Ohonhonhon~ Why so red, Angleterre?"

"Am not!"

"You are redder than one of that Spaniard's tomatoes~"

The Brit just huffed, sinking down in his chair, regretting he even came there.

"Come on, mon ami~ That's a sure sign!" He said, a big grin on his place.

"What do you mean?" He asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

"You'll figure it out," He said. "But I'm afraid you'll have to find out on your own."

"Fine, I must be going. I have more important things to do that listen to your rubbish, frog." He said, getting up and walking out. "Good day" He said, huffing as he closed the door behind him. The Frenchman stayed where he was, smiling.

"You'll see, Angleterre~" He said, taking another sip of wine. His plan was just being put into motion and he was quite pleased. Arthur played along perfectly. And Eliaveta had helped set it up, unknowingly, but she still had. He was a genius.

...

The American bashed his head against the wall for about the hundredth time. He couldn't get the damned image of Arthur in that dress out of his head. He'd already broke down and did a very shameful act while thinking about the picture, and was now disgusted with himself. He'd just did...thinking about...gah! It was unbearable. What was wrong with him?

He tried to steer his focus to the journal. He had pretty much figured out that it was Arthur's because of the entries of the Revolution. However, he hadn't gotten much farther because he didn't really enjoy reading, but now it was time to torture the Brit. He was so easy to mess with, especially with all of his secrets just a page away.

He had already forgotten about the picture, thankfully, and was now plotting a way to embarrass the Brit. He wouldn't be _too_ mad once he told him he had his journal, right?

...

So it probably wasn't Francis who took it. Eliaveta was probably too occupied messing around behind Rodrich's back, so that only left...Alfred. The Brit stopped dead in his tracks. What if it _was_ Alfred? He bit his lip as he prayed that it was someone else. Eliaveta and Francis were still suspects, considering the fact that they stayed behind and watched him leave at the end of a meeting a few weeks ago, which made them all the more suspicious.

He began to walk back to his room. Once there, he began reading his favourite detective series: Sherlock Holmes, hoping to learn more about investigating and maybe figure out who took his journal. He only had two days before they all set off to go home until the next big world meeting marathon.

* * *

Author's Note: Soooooooo~ I'm alive, guys! I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated in forever, but school has kept me sooooo busy, and has also sucked all of my inspiration into a black hole or something, plus my friends are being arseholes *huffs*

Okay, before I start ranting about my stupid friends, I know this chapter was probably disappointing, especially since y'all have been waiting for, like, two weeks, and I'm sorry. There's a four day weekend this weekend I think, so I might be able to get the next chapter in then. Thank you for continuing to follow me, guys. It means a lot *sniffle* I love y'all so much *blows into tissue dramatically*

Anyway, sorry the ending to this chapter sucks sort of, I was rushed because I only had, like, ten minutes to write the last half...

Gotta go, bed time and school is tomorrow T^T Save meeeeeee~ Anyway, hope you enjoyed this crappy chapter~ Please review, it's the only inspiration that is keeping this story afloat. Thanks!

(Credit to .xX for all of the support and starting the story and all that. Check out some of her fanfics some times, they are really good, not lying, they're awesome...)


	11. Always the Quiet Ones

Hey, y'all! Told y'all I'd get at least one chapter in this weekend~ Sorry, though. I would have had it up sooner, but I kind of having a few 'friend complications' I guess you could call it. So this probably isn't my best chapter, but please be patient. Enjoy~

* * *

Chapter 9

He put the last book back onto the shelf and slumped back into the arm chair he had been sitting in for the past couple hours. Since he'd already red the Sherlock Holmes series about eleven times already, he read them all pretty fast. Though he had read them pretty fast, he was still nead tired. It was five thirty in the morning and he had started reading them in the morning of yesterday.

Since the meeting was going to be in the morning at seen thirty, so got up to take a cold shower to wake himself up a little. When he grabbed a towel and put it around his waist, he began thinking about what he was going to do to kill some time before the meeting. He wore his usual uniform including a green jacket and trousers with deep brown boots.

After sitting around for another five minutes, he decided to "investigate". [ahem, you mean "stalking", England?] It was around six and he had at least one hour to kill, deciding to start with Francis. He walked down the hall, listening through the door and hearing the shower running. The frog always took about thirty minutes to shower and about thirty minutes to do his hair, and finally choosing something to wear. He had probably just got in, so he had about twenty five minutes to do it.

He tested the door, finding it unlocked- no surprise. Once he was in, he shut the door with a soft "click"and scanned the room, not seeing the journal, so began to search more thoroughly.

After searching about half of the room, including the frog's collection of romantic novels and carefully searching his drawers, regretting it when he found a little bottle of lubricant and gagging a little. "Where is it?" he whispered to himself. Just as he said that, the sound of water falling stopped and the Englishman started to panic, regretting not finding a hiding place just in case before.

Finding nowhere else to go, he quickly slid under the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible as the Frenchman swung the bathroom door open, thankfully walking out with a towel around his waist. He watched his feet as he walked over to his drawers as he hummed a...Canadian song? That was strange...the frog loved himself to learn anything that wasn't French. He watched as he swung the doors to his old fashioned wardrobe damatically and he hook his head, rolling his eyes.

He looked around under the bed, surprised when he didn't find it littered with multiple 'adult' items, knowing Francis. Finding that there was nothing close to keep himself distracted, he watched at the Frenchman searched through various outfits that he probably has imported personally just for, what he called, a "meeting marathon". He rolled his eyes as he finally seemed to choose an outfit that looked like all of the others.

By the time he had picked, however, the damned song had been ingrained into his brain as the frog had repeated it about five times already. Once he began changing, the Brit turned his head the other way. He tried to think of a way to possibly get out when the Frenchman finally went into the bathroom to do his hair.

He sighed, knowing he wouldn't find the journal, but he had learned that Francis knew Canadian songs, and he wasn't as perverted a everyone thinks. At least he learned something new about him, so it wasn't a total waste of time. He started to look at the possible ways to leave without being discovered, but when he looked over, the bathroom door was still open, and he couldn't get out without passing it, so that was out, Unless he wanted to crawl out a window, he'd have to wait until the frog left.

He sighed and got into a more comfortable position, he was going to be there a while.

...

"Arthur, Arthur...Angleterre!"

The Englishman nearly had a heart attack, being shaken wake and wondering why he was on a floor. Then it all came back to him and he groaned, his tiredness finally catching up with him as his brain cleared. Wait, who was waking him up? He looked over to see the Frenchman on his hands and knees to look at him from under the bed, smirking.

"Angleterre, why are you under my bed?" he asked, amusement apparent in his voice.

"Oh, belt up, frog," he huffed.

He held out his hand to pull him out from under the bed, the Brit taking it and getting himself be pulled out. He got up and brushed off any dust or dirt that may have gotten on him when he was under the bed.

"You never answered my question. Why ze hell were you in my room?" he asked again.

"I was just..." he tried to think, finding no excuse.

"Ohonhonhon~ You wanted to sneak a peek at moi?" he suggested, wiggling his hips, the Brit's face turning into one of disgust.

"Not even in your dreams, frog!" he said, crossing his arms, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Calm down, mon ami. I know you wouldn't want to see me, but maybe if I was a certain American~" he said, making the Englishman blush.

The Frenchman rolled his eyes. "You are so obvious, Arthur. Anyway, I'm guessing you 'ave come looking for zomething you thought I stole, non?" he asked, being surprisingly accurate. The Brit just stood wide-eyed at him. "Oh, so that iz what it iz! No trust, mon ami! I'm 'urt! I mean, why would I ever steal from you? You have 'orrible taste!" he said dramatically.

"Not everyone likes everything that shines or sparkles," he retorted.

"I do not!" he yelled. The Brit smirked and the Frenchman glared.

The Brit just rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic."

He sighed. "Anyway, what 'ave you been looking for?" he asked, curious.

"Nothing"

"Zat's a lie"

"Why do you care, anyway?" he asked.

"Because I can"

"Not a good reason"

The Frenchman gave up. "Come on, Angleterre, ze meeting iz about to start."

"Fine," he said as they both walked out of the room.

"Wait...how did you know I was there?" he asked, just realizing that he had found him hiding.

"You zometimes talk in your sleep," he replied simply, seeming already deep in thought, unusually quiet. They would usually already be at each other's throats. Even though he didn't want to bother the frog, he wanted to know.

"What did I say?" he asked, worried he said something embarrassing.

The Frenchy smirked. "Don't worry, it was notzing embarrassing," he answered. "You just mumbled a few strange words, probably zome magical crap," he said.

He ignored the last comment as they continued to the elevator, pressing a button, and getting off, the Frenchman still all spacey.

"You know, I was surprised not to see any perverted things under your bed," the Brit joked, the Frenchman's quietness starting to make him uneasy.

"You know, that's not the ONLY zing I do," he defended.

"I see that now, maybe I can respect you a little more..." he said, the Frenchy lighting up as he regretted saying it.

...

Once they made it down to the meeting room, they walked in and took their seats.

The German, once again, started the meeting. Arthur, however, couldn't concentrate. He kept glancing at everyone around him. Eliaveta kept glancing at Rodrich guiltily. Francis staring out into space. Alfred reading a pink book- wait, a pink book? Two things were wrong with that. Alfred didn't like reading, and it was pink.

He looked at it quizzically until deciding to pay attention to Hercules, who was talking about cats and how great his naps have been in the past month. Sighing, he rested his elbow on the table, resting his head in his hand as he watched some other nations go up, eyes glazed over in boredom. Hi thoughts kept wandering to the book the American was reading. It must have been good because he didn't even seem to see him turned and looking at him. What was so interesting?

The German dismissed everyone for lunch and the everyone got up to stretch and leave. By the time Arthur had gotten his things organized, only the Francis, Alfred, Japan, and himself were left. He looked over at the American in surprise. "Alfred, you're usually the first one out for lunchtime. What is so interesting about that book you're reading?" he asked.

"Nothin'..." he said, barely even responding.

"Obviously it's very interesting if you sacrifice lunch for it," he said.

"Hm..." was all he got for an answer.

Having enough, the Brit walked behind his chair and leaned over to read a short bit of the story, finding it handwritten. Then his eyes widened to about the size of plates as he noticed whose handwriting it was. His. He quickly scanned the page and saw that he was already on the entry of him shipping to the New World, about to discover America.

"Ohonhonhon~ What is wrong, Angleterre? You look like you've just seen a ghost~" he joked.

This got the American's attention. "G-g-ghost?" he asked, turning pale.

The Frenchman rolled his eyes. "It iz a figure of speech, ztupid American," he said, making the American visibly relax, the color returning to his face.

"America, can I please see the book you are reading for a moment?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"When I'm finished with it, but not right now," he said, giving his full attention to the journal in front of him.

"I just want to see it for a moment, America. Please?" he begged.

"Britain-san, I think America-san wants to read his book in peace." Kiku said politely, but was pointedly glaring at Arthur.

"Fine, then," the Brit said, eyeing the Asian curiously. "Let's be on our way, then."

They all walked out of the room, minus the Asian and the American, who stayed behind.

...

Francis and Arthur both walked out, closing the door behind them as they started towards the lunchroom. Francis stopped, waiting until he saw Arthur walk into the lunchroom before he turned around and quietly cracked the door open until he could see the last two in the room. The Asian didn't seem right lately.

...

Once the Brit and Frenchman had left the room, Kiku walked over to Alfred.

"I have noticed you and Arthur-kun have become much croser..." he said, watching the American closely.

"Huh? Oh yeah, me and Arthur are the best of buds!" he said, smiling and looking up at the Asian.

"I see..."

"I mean, I don't know what I'd do without him. He's always been there for me and I can tell him anything!" he said with a grin.

"You two must be rearry crose." he said, his tone a bit jealous.

"Yeah, we are. I guess it's because he's known me for my entire existence so he knows everything about me," he said happily.

"That must be very nice, but have you ever thought of getting to know someone erse, arso?" he asked.

"Huh...never really thought about that...I guess I could..." he said, rubbing the back of his neck skeptically.

"It's not hearthy to onry be sociar with one person," he said.

"Yeah...Maybe I can get to know you a little more!" he said enthusiastically.

"That wourd be fun, I think," he said, giving him a soft smile. "Werr, I am off to runch, you're wercome to join me if you'd rike." he said.

"Nah, I'm good. Too busy reading this book"

"By the way, what are you reading?" he asked.

"Arthur's journal. That's why he probably wanted it back, he just didn't want people knowing he had one so didn't kill me to get it because it would make people want to know why it was so important." he said, smirking.

Kiku smiled "Rearry? That seems very interesting..." he said, a plan forming in his head.

"It is. Well, I don't want you to miss lunch, so bye I guess," he waved and went back to reading as the Asian waved back and walked towards the door, paying more attention to his container of rice than to the door.

...

The Frenchman quickly shut the door and ran to the lunchroom before he could be caught.

...

The Asian looked up when he heard a sound from the door, but saw only the closed door. He walked up and opened it, looking out to see nothing as he glanced around, walking out and into the lunchroom as if nothing happened. When he looked up, he saw Arthur and Francis talking, the Frenchman seeming to look away quickly once he looked up.

'It's nothing...' he thought as he thought of what his next move was going to be.

* * *

Thank you, once again, .xX ! This story would have been... nonexistent, actually, without ya!

And thank you to everyone who is reading this story, without y'all support, (Especially whoever reviews!) this story would be a little bit more disastrous than it already is (Well...It's good, at least...not terrible, but good~)

Keep a look out for the next chapter, cause I have no idea when it will be up, to be honest. So review and tell me what you think, and feel free to suggest anything for future chapters through PM! I might not be able to use all of them, but I can see if I can use them in other stories!


	12. America's Confused

9.5

"A WHAT?"

"You heard me, Arthur. It's the only way," the American said cooly.

"Why the hell would I ever do that?!"

"That's the point. You'll never do it, so I can keep it forever!" he said enthusiastically.

The Brit sat down, folding his arms and huffing. "Why in the world would you ever even /ask/ for that?"

"Because I knew it would give me time to read this 'book'," he said, making air quotations when he said 'book'.

"Oh, belt it!"

"Whaaaat~?"

"You know it isn't a book at this point," he said, glaring.

"Well, true, but it's pretty interesting~" he said, enraging the Brit.

"YOU LITTLE-"

"What iz going on?" the Frenchman asked, walking into the lounging room.

They both froze, the American holding his arms up to protect himself and the Brit about to pounce on him. He looked at them both quizzically. "'Ello? I asked what iz going on!"

They turned to him, the Brit blushing and straightening, looking away. "Nothing"

The American just grinned. "Come on, Arthur~ Tell Francis what we were just discussing~" he said in an amused tone, smirking at the Brit who was now blushing even redder.

"Oui, please inform moi of what was just 'appening," he requested, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. The Brit stayed silent.

"If you don't, then I wiiiiill~" he sang. The Brit just bit his lip and shuffled around a little. "Fine, I guess I'll tell him," he said, turning to look at the Frenchman."Well, Arthur wanted this 'book'" he said, holding up the journal. "...and to get it back, he has to give the hero a true love's kiss~" he said, snickering.

The Frenchman's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? So Angleterre, 'as our little Amerique read ze part where you finally-" he never got to finish as the Brit covered his mouth and held a finger up to his own, signalling that he needed to shut it or he was going to die.

He let go of the Frenchy and turned back to Alfred. "America, you were once my colony, I raised you, you were my brother. Why the hell would I ever kiss you?" he asked.

"Well, we were never blood related, so it doesn't count~" he said.

"Plus, we're both male!" Arthur pointed out.

The American arched an eyebrow. "Arthur, you told me just a few days ago that you were-" he got cut off by the smaller nation knocking him off balance as he slapped a hand over his mouth, making them fall, Arthur on top of him.

"Yes, but still. That doesn't matter," he said quickly, his eyes wide as he looked at the frog who had the nerve to smirk at them.

"Oh? What did Arthur tell you?" the Frenchman asked curiously.

"Nothing!" he said, sitting up, now straddling the American.

"Oh, weeell~" he American began but not finishing, just wanting to mess with the already flustered Brit.

At the same time, they both realized their position and nearly died of embarrassment. The Frenchman smirked and nearly burst out laughing at the American's reaction. He was beet red and his eyes were the size of saucers.

He got up after Arthur and ran out of the room with the journal, still blushing redder than one of Spain's tomatoes.

"Ohonhonhon~"

"Belt up, frog!" the Brit demanded as he brushed himself off, but only encouraging the Frenchy.

"Ze look on you two's faces were priceless," he said in between fits of laughter.

Arthur just slumped down onto a comfy chair and groaned. "What am I going to do?"

Francis stopped and looked over at the Brit with a soft smile. "'Ow about a play?" he suggested. "Zen zere will be a reason to kiss ze American," he explained.

Arthur blinked up at him. "I think that is the best idea to ever come out of your mouth," he said, managing to praise and insult the Frenchman at the same time. They both smirked with amusement. "But which play? That's the new problem."

"Come with me, mon ami. I 'ave a few in my room," he said as they both walked out.

...

Alfred raced down the hall, his pace not even close to being as fast as his heart beat. Why did his heart suddenly beat faster when Arthur was on top of him? Why did he ask for a kiss, of all things? It had never happened before he began reading the journal, but now, every time he saw Arthur, there was something different.

Once he made it to his room, he quickly sat down and opened the journal again, eager to see what was next. He had a couple of his favorite ones. One about him being a model, one about when he was a pirate, a few interesting ones about when he was a punk, and the one about when he first met him. Deciding he needed to calm himself down, he read some of the one's he really liked.

May 19, -

Today all of my siblings were being big old jerks. They wouldn't leave me alone when I wanted to go in the woods to read. They said mean things and it really hurt my feelings. I don't want to be the youngest. One day they'll regret being jerks to me because I'm going to be the biggest and bestest country ever! I just know it!

That one always made him smile, little Arthur was so cute. The handwriting was wobbly and hard to read, but it just made it all the more adorable. 'I wonder what he looked like...' he thought. 'I don't think I've ever seen a picture...well, cameras didn't exist back then, so...'

July 25, -

We just took down another Spanish ship and raided two others. Spain is pathetic, I almost take pity on him...almost. The bastard hasn't earned my respect just yet, maybe when he grows some bollocks. Anyway, the past few days have been dreadfully boring. It's like the Spanish don't even put up a fight. Oh well, we should be on land in at least two days according to my map. Maybe I can pick up a fine lady to keep me entertained on the ship.

December 9, -

Bollocks, it's freezing. The crew keeps complaining that it's cold- as if I don't bloody know that! I'm cold to, they need to just man up or I'mm make them walk the plank. Bloody morons...

August 12, -

...That Spaniard...that BLOODY SPANIARD. I- It's not possible, she couldn't have...I'll wake up and see that it was all a dream. She isn't dead, she isn't. She's alive and just waiting for me to wake up so that she can tell me about something she looted. Angie is alive. Alive...

The American sniffed. That must have been someone Arthur loved...'dammit, don't start crying!' he thought as he wiped at his eyes. England really hadn't had an easy life, he decided. 'Well, I guess he was straight at one point...' he thought as he reread the last entry. 'Wonder what changed his mind?' He shrugged and flipped a few pages.

November 19, -

Damn, there's something wrong with me. I was just at a concert trying to enjoy the fucking music, and then I have a guy kissing me. Fucking KISSING me! I would normally just push them off or curse them out, but for some reason...I think I'm starting to question my sexuality. I mean, everyone wears skinny jeans and eyeliner, but...

The American looked up, trying to calm himself. For some reason, that entry always pissed him off, but it was also one of his favorites for reasons unknown to him. He just shrugged and read on to one of his absolute favorites.

June 29, -

Bollocks, my damn modeling agent just found a company that is willing to take me in- a very famous modeling company. I think I'll have to quit. If I become too famous...All of the other countries are bound to find out. I'm going to miss this job, it was quite enjoyable...damn agent.

Alfred smiled. He had finally found out how Arthur had been such a seductive model. Wait- seductive? The American blushed and gulped, flipping to a more innocent entry- probably the best entry- and longest- he'd ever read. The date was blurry with water, but he still remembered the day perfectly.

Oh, today was just wonderful! I met the cutest little boy- he had the biggest and deepest blue eyes and the most golden shade of blond hair I ever laid eyes on. His cheeks were rosy and chubby and just impossibly adorable. Francis and I found him in a field and Francis wants him. Like I'll ever let him, of all people, raise such a precious child.

He said his name was America. I hope he likes me more than that disgusting frog, there's something about that boy that is just so...so...radiating. My heart melted the second I laid eyes on him. If I get him, I'll make sure to raise him right, unlike that filthy Frenchy...I think I'm rambling...Anyway, I think I should write down what happened, I never want to forget this day:

Francis and I walked into the field that Finland claimed to have found a lost boy in. We both thought that he could possibly be a new colony or country so decided to take a look, and sure enough there was a boy hiding in a bush in the middle of the field, looking quite lost.

He was very young and had golden blond hair that had a stray hair that stuck up in a cowlick fashion. His eyes were large and blue-er than the sky. His cheeks were so chubby and squshable and- I'm getting carried away. Anyway, he was just the most adorable thing. I couldn't leave him there, and I wasn't willing to let the damn frog take him.

He looked at us and seemed to be scared, but after offering some food, he came out of his shell a little. He seemed to like me better, which is a first. I don't think any of the other countries really like me...maybe we could be friends. That would be the best thing ever, the only friend I've ever had was Francis, and I don't even like the damn Frenchy. I'm so glad I switched my official language from french to English in the 1050s. Best decision I've ever made...

((Author: Anyone else's jaws drop to the floor when they found out the England's official language was French until the 1050s? Mine did...This is legit, too...))

The American smiled softly. It really was an awesome day. The next entry was only split by a line, apparently he was too rushed to put the date.

I cant believe it! America chose me! ME! He chose me over that frog! Oh, this is just amazing! He called me brother, too. It took every ounce of strength not to cry from pure joy! I promise to raise the boy as best I can, I swear I will never let somebody hurt him. He's too precious. I'd write more, but America is sleeping and I don't want to wake him with my, ahem, manly squeals of joy...

Alfred laughed. The last line always made him laugh. 'MANLY squeals, England? Really?' "Pffft..." he covered his mouth to stiffle his laughter. Then he turned to the next one he had to read. He had made it mostly through the journal, only about 300 years of his life left to read. 'crap...' he thought as he faced the faded and blood and water stained piece of paper dated 1776, the precise date was blotched out, only the year legible.

* * *

I'm so sorry I have been slow with updates, guys! School is being a pain in the arse and all that...Sorry...I'm trying! So some of y'all wanted to know what was in the journal and I was planning on writing it anyway, so now you know what's had America so interested~ I've never owned a journal so didn't really know what to fruking write...I winged it. After this chapter, the plot starts to show a little more, I think...

Looking back at the first few chapters, I'm surprised this is the same story...oh, giving credit to .xX for writing the first chapter~

Any requests? Just PM me and I'll see if I can squeeze it into this fanfic~ (Or other future fanfics!)


	13. Acceptance

10

"'Ow about zis one?" He asked, shoving another vintage-looking script cover into the poor Brit's face. It had a man holding a woman bridal-style. The man was buffer than humanly possible, standing on a rock. The woman looked dirty, wearing a ratty dress and was probably passed out.

'Probably a cheesy love story' he thought. "No," he deadpanned.

"But, Angleter-"

"I said no," he glared, crossing his arms and straightening his posture. They were both sitting on Francis' bed looking at some possible choices for plays. Arthur didn't really want to know what had probably already gone on in the bed so tried to touch it as little as possible.

"Fine, zen 'ow about zis one?" he asked, shoving yet another play in his face with a vintage cover.

Arthur sighed. "Francis, this isn't working. Your plays suck, no offense…actually, offense meant," he smirked.

Francis gasped, holding a hand to his chest. "You 'urt me!" he cried dramatically.

Arthur rolled his eyes just in an equally-dramatic fashion before his brow creased and he tilted his head. "Hey, does something feel…out of place?" he asked.

Francis looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Like…something isn't right," he tried explaining, voice strained as he tried to find the right words.

"…non"

The crinkling of paper and booklets ceased as Francis stopped messing with them to look around for anything that wasn't right, finding nothing.

"Angleterre, I zink you are imagining zings again," he said.

"No…I know this feeling…" he said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure it out before they widened. "America!"

Arthur darted out of the room, leaving a startled Frenchman clueless.

Francis sat on the bed, trying to figure out what just happened, a shoot of panic going through him. The last time Arthur had yelled like that was at a world meeting when Alfred was still just a young boy. Arthur had come back with multiple shot wounds, a broken arm and rib, and America clinging to him in fear.

He jumped up "Arthur!" he called, running in the direction he had seen the Englishman go.

…

_I'm off to our last battle. Nobody says it, but we all know. This is it. It's raining, making it muddy and dreary. What a lovely day to lose a war._

Alfred winched.

_It's not like I never saw this coming, of course I did. Even in the beginning of this hellish war I knew I'd lose_

Alfred huddled in a blanket, eyes furrowed in concentration as he continued to read.

_I'm not sure if he's realized that he doesn't need to point a gun at me to hurt me, the words he speaks kills me enough. Seeing him in his war uniform has haunted me. He is too young, too young, and too innocent. _

Alfred sniffled.

_I remember when he was a very young lad hiding in a bush in a field. He chose me. ME. Nobody had done that before. Everything was so much more beautiful…isn't it funny how the one person that can bring the most happiness, can also bring you the most pain?_

'Don't cry…' he chanted in his mind. After a minute, he just decided to screw it. He began to cry, but continued to read.

_He had always been a bright lad. Looking back on all the things we've done together, it's hard to believe its all came down to this._

_I guess this will be my last entry I'll be writing while I still have a brother. I'm sorry, America, for making you hate me. I was strict because I was afraid you'd leave me. As you can see my plan didn't work out…France will never let me hear the end of it. Another failure._

_Goodbye, my little America_

He was full-on bawling when he read the last line. He dropped the journal onto the bed and cried. He knew he'd lose? Then why'd he keep fighting? 'Because he wanted to know if you were strong enough' a voice in his head rang. Being as emotional as he was then, he cried harder.

A door opened and a light turned on, but he ignored it. He realized someone was talking to him, recognizing it as Arthur's voice.

"I-I'm sorry, England," he sobbed.

The Brit looked at him, confused and concerned. "What for, poppet?" he asked, walking up to the bed and cupping his cheek. Alfred only sniffled and he looked down next to him to see his journal. Picking it up, he looked to find the same blood-stained, water-damaged page that he'd long ago memorized.

He sighed, putting it down on a nearby desk and walking back over to sit on the bed, side-hugging the sobbing America. "It's all right, poppet," he soothed, rubbing small circles on the American's back.

"No, it's not all right! You were always there for me, ALWAYS, but I was never there for you," he cried, remembering all the entries about his injuries he always hid from him when he was younger. "I used you and just tossed you aside when I didn't need you anymore," he sobbed.

Arthur listened, guilt stabbing at him. When he got his journal back, he'd burn it. There were things in there he never wanted Alfred to see and was already too late to stop him from seeing.

"Shhh, poppet, you did nothing wrong," he whispered. "That was my job, to take care of you until you could take care of yourself."

"But I was all you h-had, and I left," he continued. "Some hero I am…" he mumbled miserably.

"No, don't think like that! I was your caretaker, you weren't mine. How I felt meant nothing. My job was to protect you and that was what I did. When you grew up, you had no more use for me," He said firmly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"No, I know a very good use for you!" he argued.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Oh? And what would that be?" he asked.

"I, um…" Alfred mumbled, cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. "You're a great…f-friend," he said, making Arthur smile.

"Such a charming lad you are," he said, shaking his head fondly. "I'll be right back," he informed before getting up and walking into the bathroom.

Alfred sighed. 'Arthur probably thinks I'm a baby now…' he thought, pouting.

"Alfred, crying doesn't make you a baby," he said as he walked out of the bathroom with a rag.

Alfred's gave him a weird look. How'd he know what he was thinking?

"I knew what you were thinking because I just know you too well," he explained after seeing the surprised look on the American's face. He sat back on the bed to face Alfred and took Texas off to wipe his face.

"Whatever," he mumbled tiredly.

"Are you already sleepy?"

"No," he argued weakly, making Arthur chuckle.

Arthur guided him into a lying position and kissed his forehead like he was still a child. "Goodnight, poppet"

"Hm…what does poppet mean, anyway?" he asked lazily, ignoring how he was being treated like a kid, secretly missing how Arthur use to tuck him in.

"Don't fret over it," he said, petting his hair as he fell asleep.

…

Francis watched from the doorway, hidden from sight. He sighed. 'Well now he knows. See, Angleterre? He didn't want to hurt you' he thought.

As if Arthur read his thoughts, he stiffened and huffed, continuing to pet Alfred's hair. "I guess the frog sometimes really does know what he's talking about," he mumbled to himself.

Was that a compliment or an insult? Francis chose to ignore it and walk in.

"Angleterre, why did you run off?" he asked, acting oblivious.

"America was just getting into things he shouldn't have…again," he said.

"You say zat like 'e iz still a little boy," he mused aloud.

"He is at heart," he sighed, caressing the sleeping American's face. "He looks so much younger without Texas," he observed.

"Oui, 'e does," he agreed.

Francis stood there for a moment, watching the nostalgic expression on the Englishman's face. 'He use to be so happy' he thought sadly. "Come, Angleterre, let 'im sleep," he said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur sighed and got up. "I guess…" he said, walking out of the room with the Frenchman by his side.

…

Alfred's brow creased when the petting stopped, but ignored it and tried to sleep.

Once he was finally asleep, though, he saw a tan woman with long, dark hair. "America," he began softly. "Do you know now why you didn't want to be England's brother?" she asked.

Alfred was in shock. Was he talking to Native America?

"Wow…" was all he could say. The woman smiled.

"America, I know you're probably a little surprised, but I've always been with you, even if it's only in the spirit form," she said. "Now, the main reason I came into your dream was to make sure you knew"

"Knew what?" he asked, now confused.

"Why England being your brother felt wrong to you," she said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

Alfred felt his cheeks heat up. "Maybe…" he whispered, looking down.

"Don't be shy, America. Nobody will judge you, and I'm sure England won't, either. Wait until the right time, though, okay? Make it special," she said.

Alfred nodded, smiling shyly. "Thanks, ma," he said, catching onto what she was talking about.

"Come here, darling," she requested, stepping forward and embracing him.

"I love you, ma," he mumbled into her shoulder.

"And I love you, darling," she said.

Everything went black and he opened his eyes to a dark room.

"Why?" he groaned, flipping himself over and smashing his face into the pillow. "Of all people…" he mumbled. "Just my luck"

* * *

I haven't updated in a long while, I know, and I only give you guys one small chapter. *Holds hands up* I don't blame you if you're pissed at me right now. I've been an emotional mess and, even though I was finished with all of my school projects, I seemed to have been busier than ever. I'm sorry, I really am and I don't know how to make it up to y'all.

I hope you liked this chapter, I stayed up all night last night trying to finish it. I'd ask for reviews, but I haven't updated in forever, so I won't.


	14. Almost

Chapter 11

"You mean you want me to be director?" the Hungarian asked, beaming.

"Oui"

"Okay!" she exclaimed, jumping with joy. Francis smiled and pulled his Canadian companion closer by the waist, earning a blush from the shy boy.

"Awwh, you guys are too CUTE!" Eliaveta squealed, clapping her hands together in front of her chest.

"We're not-"

"Merci, my little Matthew is adorable~" the Frenchman said, cutting him off. Seconds later, the Canadian was being pulled into a kiss by him.

"Wha-"

"Awwwh~"

"If you'll excuse us, madame, he have some business to attend to~" he said in a hinting voice.

She gave him a mischievous grin before nodding. "Okay! I promise to be the best director!" she said as they walked off.

"Francis, what was that?" he asked, stepping out of his loose hold on his waist and facing him, hands on his hips.

"Oh, did I upset you, mon cher?" Francis asked.

"Oui!" he responded angrily.

"…What do you want to eat?"

"What?"

He repeated his question.

"Uh…I guess Poutaine sounds good right now…" he answered slowly. "Why?" he asked curiously.

"Come with me," he ordered, grabbing his hand and leading him to the large kitchen on the third floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"You say you're upset, so I make you food," he answered simply in French.

"Hm…I think I could get use to this," he said, crossing his arms and smiling.

The Frenchman beamed. "Does that mean you'll be mine?" he asked.

"Oui," he nodded, getting glomped by Francis seconds later.

"Merci, merci! I've been trying forever!" he exclaimed happily. "You've made me the happiest man to walk this earth!" he said in French.

Matthew smiled and shook his head. "But you still have to make me food"

"Of course! Anything for you," he said sweetly, going over to the cabinets and grabbing some ingredients.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Making gravy," he answered. After no response, he looked over his shoulder and found a very confused-looking Canadian staring at him. "What? Have you never had fresh gravy?" he asked.

"Non…"

He smiled. "Then it shall be the best gravy you'll ever have!" he exclaimed in French.

'He's adorable' he thought as he watched him prepare the meal.

…

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Arthur sighed as he got up from his chair and set his book down. He opened the door and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Alfred, what are you wearing?" he asked, looking at his 20's-styled suit.

"Well, I noticed we haven't hung out in a while and thought it would be cool if we went to some 20s club down the street!" he explained enthusiastically. Arthur gave him an unamused look. "Oh, come on! You need to cheer up! Come on, I already have a suit for you, too," he said, grabbing his wrist and leading him to his room.

"Alfred! I still have to choose a play!"

"Already done."

"Whot?"

"We're doing one called 'Hold On'" he informed.

"I don't believe I've heard of it. May I ask whot it is about?"

"You'll see when you get your script," he said with a grin. He liked messing with him too much. "Now come on, Artie, relive the twenties with me!" he said as he got into his room and grabbed another suit.

"I am NOT wearing that," he said automatically, crossing his arms and sticking up his nose. "I'll look ridiculous wearing that…that…pimp suit"

"It's not a pimp suit…" Alfred said, giving him a look somewhere between confused and 'what the hell'. "Please, Artie, just for a couple'a hours?" he begged, using his kicked puppy face.

"Fine!" he snapped, snatching the suit from him and walking into the bathroom. "And my name is Arthur!" he said from the other side.

"Awwh, don't be such a cranky wanky!"

Arthur walked out a few seconds later and smacked him in the back of the head. "What the hell is a wanky?"

"Nothing, I made it up…and owwie," he answered, rubbing the back of his head.

"Serves you right," he huffed, crossing his arms.

Alfred took a step back and took a look at Arthur. "Damn…"

"Whot?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably, feeling Alfred's eyes on him.

"Oh, well, you look good in that," he complimented awkwardly.

"Thank you…" he said, equally awkward.

Alfred smiled. "Now come on!" he said, grabbing his wrist and dragging the poor Briton to some tacky 20s club. Pure hell.

The stumbled out a few hours later, Alfred laughing and Arthur cussing up a storm.

"Dude, you really can't dance," Alfred panted and laughed. "Ow!"

"That was NOT dancing," he huffed after smacking the back of his head. "That was…some sort of riot in there."

That just made Alfred laugh more. "Well, we didn't do your kind of fancy pansy dancing in the twenties," he said as they began walking back to the meeting building. He looked around, not knowing what to do. He wanted to spend more time with Arthur. "…hey, wanna go watch a movie?" he asked, hoping he'd say yes.

"What? You drag me to some tacky club and insult my dancing, and you think I'll go watch a damn movie with you?!" he exclaimed.

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. How about this, you can choose the movie," he said.

"Huh? Well, then I guess one movie couldn't hurt," he agreed.

"Great!" he grabbed his wrist and ran to the theatre across the street.

"Would you STOP grabbing my wrists?" he protested.

Alfred ignored him but came to a stop in front of the bright lights of the theatre sign. "We're here!" he announced, pointing out the obvious. "So, should we see a sappy romance? Mystery? Horror?" he listed, looking at the list of movies playing.

"How about…" he thought, tapping his chin. Alfred had dragged him to some club, so it was payback time. "Horror~" he said in a narrator-like voice.

Alfred's face fell. "Oh, you're cruel," he said, paying for the first horror movie on the list anyway. At least he was going to watch it with Arthur. If only he knew how much he meant to him…

They went to the snack station, him buying a large popcorn and soda. Arthur grimaced. "You want anything?" he asked.

"No thank you. I don't understand how you can even consume that stuff, and in such a large amount," he said.

Alfred shrugged, showing the usher their tickets and pushing the cinema door open with his back, letting Arthur in before following. "Guess I'm just that amazing~" he joked.

Arthur rolled his eyes. They chose seats near the back so that the other people in there wouldn't be as annoyed when Alfred would begin the freak out during the movie.

Once Alfred got himself situated, they both sighed and made little conversation, not having anything to really talk about as the advertisements flashed across the screen. They ended up making a bet, however. If Alfred screamed, he'd pay Arthur twenty, if he didn't, Arthur had to pay him twenty.

After a while, the movie finally began to play and Alfred was instantly nervous. "…Hey, Arthur?"

"Yes, poppet?" he asked, not really paying attention.

"Can I, um…hold your hand?" he asked shyly.

That got Arthur's attention. The look he gave him could have won a medal.

"C'mon, you did it when I was younger," he pointed out.

"You're a grown man now and we're in a public place. Don't you think people would wonder?" he asked.

"Well, who cares what people think? If we look like a couple, who cares? It's our lives, they have no business judging us," he said.

Arthur blinked, not believing what he just heard. "Oh…"

"What?"

"Thank you…for making me see that, if I had a boyfriend, I shouldn't care what people think of us," he said.

Alfred grinned. "I'm glad! So, who ya crushin' on, Art?" he asked. Arthur looked away.

"My name is Arthur…and, I don't really know if I like him or not, but I'm beginning to suspect myself…" he answered.

"Really? Who?" he asked, mentally cursing himself for sounding so hopeful.

Arthur chuckled, noticing how curious Alfred was. "Why should I tell you~?" he asked.

"Because I'm your best friend!" he whined.

"And you've read most of my journal. Have you not the slightest clue yet?" he asked.

Alfred remembered the entry he'd read about Arthur freaking out over the death of some mystery girl he seemed to be pretty in love with, then the one about Arthur when he was confused about his sexual orientation. "No, not really…"

"Well, I've accepted AND rejected the idea of liking this person. I love him, but I don't know what KIND of love. Am I making sense?" he asked.

"Total sense," he nodded. They both had forgotten about the movie, engrossed in their own conversation.

"…Hey, Arthur?" Alfred asked about one fourth through the movie.

Arthur hummed in question.

"Um…" he looked down, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket nervously.

After a minute of no response, Arthur looked at him. "Well, what is it?" he asked. Even in the dark, he could see how red Alfred's cheeks were.

"Well, there's something I-"

"Alfred, I didn't know you two were here"

They both instantly recognized the voice and turned a little to see no other than Kiku.

"Oh, um…yeah," Alfred nodded, a little relieved and pissed at the same time. He was about to tell Arthur something important.

Kiku looked at both of them. "Did I interrupt anything?" he asked, tone dripping with fake guilt.

"Yes, actually"

"No, not really"

The two English countries looked at each other.

"Oh, werr then, may I join you?" he asked sweetly.

"Sure, dude," the American agreed, letting him take the seat beside him on the left.

They watched the rest of the movie silently with Alfred's occasional whimpers when he got scared. Arthur would just gently squeeze his hand reassuringly and he'd calm down. This bugged Kiku until the movie was over and Arthur let go of his hand.

They got up and left the theatre. They began to walk back to the meeting building. "May I ask what you two are wearing?" Kiku asked.

"We went to this awesome twenties joint!" Alfred answered enthusiastically.

"I see…" he nodded, jealousy boiling.

They all got there and followed Alfred to his room. Arthur and him both changed in the bathroom, feeling more comfortable changing in front of each other instead of the Asian.

Once they both finished, they walked out and they all decided to have a sleepover at Alfred's before tomorrow, the last meeting.

"So, who wants to play monopoly?" Alfred asked.

"No," Arthur deadpanned remembering the two-day-long game they had played a couple of years ago.

"Okay," Kiku agreed.

"Ha! You're outnumbered Arthur!" Alfred cheered, grabbing the box from under his bed and setting up the game.

…

Two hours later, they were all fast asleep in the middle of the game.

Francis slowly opened the shower curtain and stepped out, Matthew following.

"Ze zings I do to get two people togezer" he muttered, making the Canadian snicker.

"It's because you care about the two of them, whether you'll admit it or not," he smirked. Francis scoffed.

"Please, I am ze country of romance! I 'ave a reputation to upkeep!" he defended.

"Sure~"

Francis pouted and Matthew poked his cheek. "Now hurry up, we don't want them to wake up and get caught. Where are the pictures?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Francis dug around in his pocket, pulling out a small stack of photos. "'ere"

Matthew grabbed them. "Where'd you get them, anyway?" he asked curiously, placing the pictures in the least suspicious place, Arthur's discarded suit pants.

Once the task was completed, they snuck out of the room. Once they got back to Francis', they collapsed into fits of giggles.

"I can just imagine Al's face when he sees those," the Canadian said in between giggles.

"You are so evil…It's always ze quiet ones~" he joked, getting pushed.

"Oh yeah, I'm so sneaky and evil. I could win a war before anybody knew it began," he said, examining his fingernails. He looked up to see a look of horror on the Frenchy's face and laughed. "Not really, calm down"

Francis breathed a sigh of relief. "You can be scary when you want to"

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said, kissing the Frenchman.

* * *

I'M ALIVE! I'm so so so so so so so A MILLION TIMES SORRY! When's the last time I've updated? Oh, you guys must be so mad right now. I thought that since all my projects were finished that I would have more time to write...I've never been more wrong. I'm trying my hardest guys, really, and I am so grateful for your patience.

I um...well, I had this chapter halfway typed, closed it, and then it somehow disappeared even though I saved it, so I had to retype everything...sorry *hides* Don't hurt me~!

I know that England and America act a little out of character a lot, but I always like to think that they act more childish around each other, so sorry if you don't like it...

I love you all! I give all my reviewers cookies~!


	15. Friendship

HEY GUYS! I AM SOOOO SORRY. A LOT HAS HAPPENED. So, my Grandpa died, my cat died, school work, and family time has taken up a lot of my life...plus Tumblr. I'M SO MEAN TO YOU GUYS! BUT I LOVE YOU ALL! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! ASDFGHJKL HUGS FOR ANYBODY!

* * *

Chapter 12

"Alfred…Alfred…ALFRED, GET THE FUCK UP!"

"Ah, what the hell?" the American cried, head jerking up and causing a couple of monopoly pieces to go flying. His forehead displayed a large red mark from where his head had laid. He looked at the blurry man in front of him sleepily. "What ever happened to 'Meri, get up Meri' and a gentle shake?" he whined, rubbing his eyes.

"You're a grown man, I don't have to be nice," he answered, sounding annoyed. "Now wake Kiku up," he ordered as he crouched down and began picking up the cards.

"Fine, at least he'll wake up peacefully if I do it," he huffed, getting up. "Now stop being so bitter and cranky"

"I do what I want!" he growled.

"And you call me childish," he said, making a face. "Now do I need to tickle you to make you smile?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

"Absolutely not!"

This made Alfred frown. "You had a bad dream, didn't you?"

"Where is this coming from?" Arthur asked as he placed the monopoly box under the bed.

"Experience," he deadpanned. "You are always bitter after a bad dream," he added. "Now c'mere" he requested.

"No" he huffed, getting up and crossing his arms. Looking away from the American, he pouted.

Alfred smiled at the childish action and stepped a little closer, wrapping his arms around the smaller nation.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing, tosser?" he protested, struggling free.

"Hugging you. Maybe you're less educated in affection than I first thought," he answered, humming in thought.

"I don't need a bloody hug! Now get off!" he continued, trying to wiggle away from the embrace.

Alfred smiled. "Calm down, man. What was in your dream that made you so cranky?" he asked, pulling away a little to look at the slightly teary-eyed brit.

"None of your business!" he exclaimed.

"Fine" Alfred sighed, letting the smaller man go. "Be that way, but if you want to talk about it, I'm all ears," he said before walking into the bathroom and closing the door.

Arthur watched the door close before smiling to himself. The bloody American was insufferable, but he cared…and the red mark on his forehead looked a little adorable. Just a little.

Behind him, shuffling noises were heard and he turned around to find Kiku sitting up. He'd slept on his back, so he didn't really have a funny red mark, much to Arthur's amusement's disappointment.

"Good morning, Kiku," he greeted automatically.

"Good morning, Arthur-san," he greeted in the same monotone voice he was all too use to. They both took a look around as the now awkward silence made them both feel uncomfortable.

"…where is Alfred-san?" the Asian asked after a while.

"Oh, he's in the bathroom, probably getting himself presentable for the meeting, which I should also be doing," he said, finding the chance to get away from the emotionless brown eyes. "Well, I best be off," he said, walking slowly to the door.

He stopped.

He suddenly didn't want to leave Kiku alone in Alfred's room. "…but it would be rude to leave without saying goodbye, wouldn't it?" he asked rhetorically, glad to find an excuse to stay.

"You never had a problem with it before," Kiku responded.

Arthur's jaw dropped, not believing what he'd just heard and turned around. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing"

Arthur blinked before straightening and sitting down. Well that struck some heart strings. His brow furrowed. Kiku wasn't usually like that.

They sat in a painful silence until the American walked out of the bathroom wile humming and rubbing a towel on his hair. Another towel hung loosely around his waist and he was obviously shirtless. When he realized he had company, he paused. "…hey," he greeted.

"Hello, Alfred-san," Japan greeted, turning around.

Arthur just stared. He had seen Alfred like this a lot of times, but for some reason, his heartbeat quickened.

"Arthur~ Earth to Arthuuur~" the American sang, waving a hand in front of the older nation's face.

"Whot?" he asked, looking up at him.

"You spaced out," he answered with an amused smile.

"Oh, sorry, just thinking about things I have to do today," he said, using the first excuse that came to mind as he forced himself to look at the American's face.

Alfred's smile vanished quickly and he turned away, giving him a quick look of something Arthur had rarely ever seen on his face- disappointment?

Arthur shook the feeling of slight guilt off as Alfred's naturally obnoxious laugh filled the room as he discovered the blushing Asian still facing the wall. "Dude, I'm not NAKED, come on, chill," he said as he grabbed a shirt, along with a pair of pants from is closet. "Be right back, dudes," the American informed as he walked back into the bathroom, but not before giving Arthur a wink.

Arthur blinked. 'Whot?' he shook his head and shrugged it off as the Asian turned back around.

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you act so casually around an indecently dressed person?" he asked curiously. "I don't mean to insult your ways, however," he added quickly.

"No, it's all right. Anyway, I guess it has to do with how long we've known each other…and, technically, only the lower portion is really private," he answered. He could have sworn he asked him the same question a couple of months ago, and a couple of times before that. His answer was almost routine now.

"I see…" he said, nodding as if it just now made sense. "I thought it was because of your special relationship"

Arthur turned a vibrant shade of red. "Who told you that? W-we're just friends. Close, but not that close!" he explained quickly.

"Oh, it's just how you two always…'hang out'. I guess everyone has been getting the wrong signals…" he said. "Maybe, so you don't raise suspicions, you and Alfred-san should 'hang out' less…I apologize for the misunderstanding," he said with a bow, holding back a smile.

Arthur nodded once. "It's quite all right. I guess I can see why everybody was wondering…we HAVE been around each other quite a lot, haven't we?" he admitted with a hum.

"Hey, what's going on?" Alfred asked as he walked back in. He looked strange without his bomber jacket. Now, he only wore some jeans and a white t-shirt.

Arthur had to admit, he did look rather good, even if his outfit was unprofessional. "Um, nothing. Just talking," he answered.

Alfred hummed, nodding. "So, what's today's plan?" he asked, looking at the two other men.

"Oh, actually, I'll be a little busy," Arthur said. "So I'd best be off if I want to get everything done in time" he continued as he walked to the door. "And I'm sure you have much work to catch up on, as well, America," he said stiffly as he walked out.

Once the door was closed, Alfred looked over at Kiku. "…what suddenly got stuck up his ass?" he asked. The Asian just shrugged.

…

He closed the door and fell onto his bed, frustrated. "When I thought we could finally be close again, people think we're a bloody couple," he mumbled, rolling onto his stomach with his feet hanging off, groaning. He let himself sulk for a while before getting up. Alfred really had taken up a lot of his time and he really did need to get some of his work done.

At least the time really wasn't wasted. It felt nice spending some time with him again…

But now he couldn't concentrate on his work.

He began to think about what Kiku had said:

"…_but it would be rude to leave without saying goodbye, wouldn't it?" he asked._

"_You never had a problem with it before…"_

"_You never had a problem with it before…"_

"_You never had a problem with it before…"_

Now angry, he slammed his pen down on the blank sheet of paper in front of him.

"_I thought it was because of your special relationship"_

"_**special relationship**__"_

"_Oh, it's just how you two always…'hang out'. I guess everyone has been getting the wrong signals…"_

'No, we're just friends' he thought.

'He winked at you. How many friends do that?' his brain cried. 'stop torturing yourself and let France be right for once!'

"Fuck, now my brain's against me!" he yelled, getting up. "…hm…" he hummed in thought, tilting his head.

…

Lying on the floor in the middle of the room laid a beat up Arthur. Groaning, he got up. "Well, that didn't turn out as planned," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead.

He heard footsteps on the other side of the door before Eliaveta and Gilbert burst into the room.

"Arthur, are you all right?! We heard a boom," he said worriedly.

The brit gave them both a suspicious look. "Say, Gilbert, how did you hear anything from in here? Your room is on the fifth floor. And how did you get here so quickly?" he asked, curious to what the response would be.

The two nations shared a nervous glance. "Oh, he was just visiting so we could hang out. Now, the real concern is if you're all right," she said, cupping his cheek as she looked for any signs of injuries or pain.

Arthur sighed, knowing she was lying. "I'm quite all right. No need to concern yourself," he confirmed, stepping back. "Just a couple of scratches."

"Hm…okay, but be careful," she said unsurely as she walked backwards towards the door.

"You, too," he replied. The atmosphere turned tense and the Hungarian froze for a second before nodding and walking out with Gilbert, closing the door behind them.

Arthur slumped into a chair and closed his eyes. Not a good idea at all, because now he had a headache.

…

"Dude, you can't tell me you've never done this before!" he cried, turning to look at the smaller raven-haired man.

He shook his head. "Was I supposed to have?" he asked worriedly.

"YES!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up.

"I see…shall we, then?" he asked, looking at him.

"S'yeah!" he answered, walking up the steps.

"Alfred-san, I don't understand. It is just a large slide," he said, following.

"Don't knock it till you try it, man. This slide is awesome!" the American said. "You just walk up these stairs, get in the potato sack, and slide~" he explained. "Simple, right?"

"…potato sacks?"

"Yeah"

"Alfred, I am concerned for your country's strange ways," he mumbled to himself.

Alfred stopped. "Huh? Hey! You didn't say the 'san' part! Yes!" he cried, fist pumping. He felt accomplished for the day, until he remembered the stack of paperwork and junk he had sitting on his desk.

"Oh, I aporogize, how rude of me," he said, eyes going wide as he covered his mouth.

"Huh? Hey, what's wrong, man?" he asked, having forgotten his triumph. Kiku just shook his head, so he shrugged and they both climbed the steps to the top. Alfred took a minute to help the Asian into one before getting into one himself. The ride controller gave them a strange look.

"Aren't you two a little old for this?" he asked.

"You're never too old for slides, dude," he said.

They both went down, Alfred cheering and Kiku trying not to shit himself.

Once they reached the bottom, Alfred was laughing as he dragged a shaking Kiku away. "Calm down, it was only a slide."

Says the man who rode roller coasters reaching 200 mph EVERY DAY.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of the same process on different rides.

Once Kiku began to look sick, they left to go back to the meeting building, where they parted ways.

…

Kiku sat in his mat. "How does Arthur-san tolerate all of that so often?" he asked himself.

…

Alfred sighed, taking a seat and picking up a pen on his desk. Tomorrow was the last meeting and he had a lot to do.

…

Kiku, despite feeling sick, grinned. Plan A was going better than expected.

…

Francis walked down the hall and stopped at Arthur's door. It was unlocked, so he waltzed right in, finding a sleeping Briton with his head on his desk.

He grabbed a blanket and draped it over the slumbering man's shoulders. Before leaving, he used the blank sheet and pen to write him a little note.

_Note:_

_ Don't work so much. Nobody likes seeing their favourite British nation so stressed. It worries them._

_-Francis and friends_

…

The next morning, Arthur woke up and read the note, smiling. Francis wasn't THAT bad of a friend, he had to admit that as he noted the blanket draped over his shoulders.

* * *

I hope everyone liked this chapter. It's been really hard to write something so happy when my life is shit right now...

Reviewers get cookies~

Yo, ParanourmalVirtue is now JustAQuietEcho. Go check out her stories! She's the one who got me started on this story, so lots of thanks to her!


	16. Last Meeting

So, I promised myself I wouldn't take a month to update.

I failed.

BUT I have started to go to my school library and type a little more every lunch period for you guys. So, since I'll be working on it during lunch, the updates should come quicker o.o For all who have reviewed and put up with my shitty updating these past few months, I love you. I'll leave you alone to read now...

* * *

"Okay, now let us begin," the German said with authority as he took his seat at the large table, picking up a pen unconsciously.

The small Asian man, Kiku, has gotten up and walked over to the podium, brown eyes scanning the crowd of nations.

Once he had begun to speak in his normal, monotone manner, Arthur leaned back, tuning him out. He wasn't doing it necessarily to be rude; it's just that the meeting was so early so everyone could leave before the day ended. His elbow rested on the arm rest of his chair as two fingers supported his drooping head.

Early meetings were usually quiet, but everyone wanted to get back home already and it was almost dead silent. Everything was so…calm. He was glad for that. The memories of the last few meetings flooded into his mind and he wanted to bash his head into a wall. Hard. And most of the humiliating events he could blame on one American. He glanced at Alfred in annoyance. At least the others had the decency to not bring anything up.

He looked to see someone else was already speaking. Honestly, none of them had a damn thing to say anymore, they just try to drag it out so it lasts until it's time to go.

His mind drifted to the embarrassing thoughts and he forced himself not to cringe. He cried in front of everyone. It wasn't even that bad, he was just a little on edge that day. Gentlemen don't cry in front of others, and neither do former empires. He should be over the blasted revolution.

He sighed. And then he looked like a bloody girl in a dress thanks to…most likely Eliaveta.

He then thought of the five minute laughing fit that he later discovered was caused by some fairy dust he'd found on his shoulder. Sesil had regretted doing it afterwards all right.

_Why hasn't anyone teased me about any of it? France would take every one of those to get on my nerves, _he thought, a little puzzled. _They'd never just leave it alone._

"Because they're willing to leave you alone if you're happy! They don't want to ruin it for you…plus, they're hoping you're less cranky if they do…" a faery said in his ear like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He almost jumped out of his chair from the high-pitched voice and the sudden sound of it. He looked over his left shoulder to find the same faery, Sesil, that gave him a laughing fit. He glanced around to see some giving him looks. Of course, in their eyes, he just randomly spazzed and started looking at his shoulder.

He looked over to Sesil again and glared. "First off, how did you even know what I was thinking?" he whispered.

"You tend to often forget that, when we're around, you have to keep your so called 'thought guard' up," she reminded as she took a seat on his large shoulder. "aka, thinking of a song until it drives us all nuts."

He ignored the slight insult and sighed. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hm…Bored," she answered, kicking her feet, looking down as she tried to hide her smile.

Arthur gave her a disbelieving look. "What did you do?" he asked.

"Hey! Why do you automatically assume I did something?" she cried, crossing her arms, a little offended. After getting a silent, steely glare, she sighed and dropped her arms. "Okay, fine, well…the other faeries and I thought that we should…spice up the meeting," she caved, looking around. "I mean, it's dead in here…"

He crossed his arms, careful not to knock her off. "And how, exactly, are you going to do that?"

"Weeell, you'll see…" she answered before she flew off.

Arthur adjusted himself to face the table better and found a couple of countries giving him strange looks before returning their attention back to the presenter. He tried to get his mind off of…well, everything. The play, the faeries, the American. He focused on pretending to write some notes down, which ended up as him writing a small little story. He had forgotten all about the possible chaos to come.

Alfred, well, America stepped up and, unlike the others, still had a lot to talk about, trying to get other countries to donate some money for some of the plans he had.

…

Neither of the English-speaking countries tried to make contact for their own reasons. Japan noticed it and his brow furrowed slightly. There are two possible outcomes, and he really didn't want to screw all of his hard work up. He'd get England for their broken alliance. He knew he was quiet, but he was also tactful.

…

Arthur, not really wanting to, but taking notes on Alfred's long speech, sighed. He felt he was forgetting something.

Then it happened.

"Ohonhonhon~"

"Bloody hell," he mumbled under his breath before looking up at the Frenchman, who now held a giant teddy bear. He could have sworn he'd seen it before…

"If you want it back, come and get it~" he said playfully, drawing attention from everyone. They were all quite confused before it clicked. That was Canada's bear!

Arthur mentally face palmed. Of course it was Matthew's. How could he forget…again? _Well_, he thought, _at least we got through a couple of things before chaos erupted._

He, along with other nations, watched the two lovebirds run around the table, one shouting (if you could call it shouting) and one laughing. The unscheduled event seemed to have awoken everyone's soul as the mood finally lightened and people got up to join the chase.

"Every bloody meeting, I swear. This is why there's no world peace," he grumbled as the noise level increased. Seconds later, he felt himself being arisen from his seat and took a wild guess that it was pixie dust. His feet, without his command, walked themselves up to America as his scowl deepened. He could hear a faery giggling in his ear.

Alfred, noticing the other English nation, cleared his throat. "Oh, hey, Art," he greeted.

"That's Arthur to you, boy," he corrected. Alfred just gave him a smile before his eyes returned to the entertainment.

"You're never gonna stop me from calling you nicknames, you know," he said. "They suit you too well to NOT call you them."

Arthur huffed in annoyance, but moved on. "So, enjoying yourself?" he began casually. Alfred just shrugged.

"Eh," he answered.

"Since when were you Canadian?"

Alfred looked at him like he had grown another head. "Dude, did you just make a joke? A GOOD joke?" he asked, a little surprised. "Nice," he praised, refraining from high-fiving the Brit.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Anyway, you never answered my question on enjoying yourself."

"Well, no one was really paying attention to me and I wasn't really in the mood to do a speech and junk. So not really," he answered.

"Who tipped over your bucket of sunshine?" he asked rhetorically.

"Look who's askin'," the American shot back, a corner of his lip twitching upwards.

"Oh haha, you're so funny," he responded, each word dripping with sarcasm. He started to wonder what was going on with Alfred, but forced himself not to care. He didn't want to become too close to him. He needed to remember that his goal was to become the exact opposite.

His mouth, however, moved on its own. "Alfred, are you all right?" he asked, realizing he was being blunt. He knew it was a faery's doing.

That is when America actually looked at him for a second before returning his attention to the crowd. "Yeah, am I actin' weird or something? Sorry, dude, just didn't sleep much," he said, sounding as if he was making it up, but he was being truthful. They both shrugged it off.

Arthur winced as he foreshadowed the event that was about to unfold in front of them. Feliciano had jumped up to finally join everyone and began running. Ludwig got up and went after him to stop him. He called after the Italian and Feliciano turned around. Ludwig's reflexes weren't fast enough and he crashed into the smaller man, their lips crashing together.

Everyone who had witnessed it stopped dead in their tracks. Everyone who didn't paused to see what had happened. After Ludwig backed away, regaining his balance, he began to scramble to find the words to apologize.

"I-uh-I didn't mean to-"

Feliciano smiled. "It's all right, Germany~!" he assured in his forever upbeat tone. Without warning, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around the German's neck. He kissed him for a long moment as the room burst into cheering.

Alfred watched longingly as Ludwig began kissing back. Then he looked at Arthur and his frown deepened. He could say something right now. This could be an only chance for all he knew. He took a deep breath. "Hey, Arthur, I-,"

He froze when Arthur's emerald eyes locked with his.

"Yes?" he asked after a second, arching a large eyebrow.

"I, um, you're staying for the play, right?" he asked stupidly, mentally face palming. Of course he was staying for the play.

Arthur gave him a look that screamed the question 'are you daft?' "…Why, yes I am. Actually, we both are. We'll be the main characters, in case you forgot, and it's your fault," he reminded.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I guess I really do need to go back to bed, haha," he joked weakly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Arthur didn't quite feel like he was acting right, but he ignored it. "Well then, what was the name of said play again?" he asked.

"'Hold On' is the name," he said, a proud smile making its way onto the American's lips.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Why are you smiling?" he asked as he studied his face.

"No reason~" he sang, the lie obvious in his tone.

"Alfred, you're up to something, aren't you?" he asked with a sigh as he crossed his arms. _Everyone is always up to something,_ he thought in annoyance.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You were the one talking to his shoulder earlier, having the same conversation." He said, giving him an amused smirk. "Everyone thought you'd finally lost it, dude," he added with a laugh.

"And, as you can see, I certainly have not. I was actually talking to- oh, never mind," he sighed, giving up on his near useless attempt to defend himself.

After a minute, they both had forgotten what they were talking about and watched the disorder in the meeting room silently.

Feliciano, more than Ludwig, celebrated their new relationship that everyone had saw coming. Some of the other couples also celebrated by being together, which was almost every country. He made a 'well this sucks' face.

Alfred looked over to Kiku and the wild thought of telling him about his feelings for Arthur popped into his head. Kiku was his best bro! He told him everything!((Arthur was his best friend, but Kiku was a _brooo_. Come on now))

He'd tell Arthur, but for one, he was ARTHUR and, for two, only bros can hold such classified information. Deciding that he might as well since he hadn't talked to Japan much, he walked over.

"Hey, dude, 'sup?"

Brown eyes looked up at him. "hello, Alfred-san. How has your morning been? I hope it has been well," he said politely.

"Awesome!" he answered with enthusiasm. "But I need to get something off my chest. You're the only person I can really tell," he admitted in a much lower volume.

"What is it, Alfred-san?" he asked in a whisper as the American took a seat beside him.

"You won't tell anyone, right? Pinky promise?" he asked, holding out his pinky with a nervous look.

"I promise," he said, reluctantly doing the pinky swear.

"Okay," he began loudly before quieting down. "Well, I think I like Arthur. Like, the like-o-meter is a little higher than 'friend'," he said, watching the Japanese country's reaction. "…and it's a little bit more than 'bros'," he added.

"Ah…I see," he said with a small nod of understanding although he was a little annoyed. "Well, do you know a lot about his past? It is very bloody, Alfred-san," he said. He looked to see Alfred giving him a confused look.

"Well, he used to tell me some pirate stories, but I never really cared much to look into it. I only know what I've lived through," he said. It was true. He knew history from when he was born and afterwards, but not much before. To be honest, he didn't think it mattered.

"I see…well, you can't truly love someone without knowing the darkest part of then," he said with wisdom. Alfred just gave him a curious look.

"Well, he was kind of an ass during the war of 1812, " he responded after a minute. The Asian suppressed his laughter.

Looking at the ignorant American, he wondered if he'd regret this part, but knew, if he wanted to get what he wanted, he'd probably have to. Especially when time was limited. Reluctantly, he began. "Well, Arthur-san has…not been the most gentlemanly person he proclaims he is…"

Ten minutes later, Alfred was almost in shock. His mouth hung open and his glasses were low on the bridge of his nose. "…What? But…He's such a nice guy…well, if you look past the scowls, the insults, the nagging, and stale humour." He tried to defend. "but…why would he do all that?" he asked sadly.

"I am sorry, Alfred-san, but that is for you to figure out." He explained. He honestly had no idea if he had just made a grave mistake in his plan or a great improvement. Watching the blue-eyed nation sulk, he felt a little bad and didn't know what to do. He looked at Eliaveta and she already had it covered as she made a Patting Someone's Back motion with her hands, which he reluctantly followed.

Eventually, Alfred looked up and straightened himself. "So…now what?"

Before the small Asian got a chance to respond, Ivan was in his sight.

"What do you mean by 'now what?" the Russian asked with a small smile on his face. He was curious.

"My sunflowers! They are wilting. I just planted then a few weeks ago and they look kind of dead," he said, thinking quickly. He knew the larger nation would offer to help. He'd have to buy some sunflowers…and a new house…and claim it as his everyday house. Not a good idea after all.

"Oh? Maybe I can help your precious sunflowers if you become one with mother Russia. Deal?" he asked with an actually hopeful but small smile.

Alfred looked to see Kiku was now gone. Not cool. He had left him for possible death. "Um…no, sorry dude…but if you leave me alone, I can get you some sunflowers," he offered.

"Okay," he agreed before walking off, humming.

The man loved his sunflowers way too much.

Tossing away the thought, everyone plus him returned to their rightful seats as Eliaveta shouted at them to shut up. Everyone followed instructions, all curious to what she had to say. She never really talked during world meetings. And there were reasons.

"Sooo, as you all might have already guessed, America has provided us with much entertainment by taking something from the one and only England. I assure you all that it was an accident, but now England wants it back, I mean, who wouldn't? So, in order to get it back, the two made a deal. I won't tell you about it, because it's classified… but because of it, there will be a play held." She explained with a smile. "So, to complete England's task, there needs to be actors. And those actors will be whoever signs up. Now, we need a lot and I'm pretty sure all of you want to see how everything works out, so sign up at the door if you're staying to be part of this," she explained.

"Auditions will be held tomorrow. For further information, contact me later!" she finalized. "Now let's all give a big thanks to America for letting us stay here for the past few days!"

Everyone mumbled thanks.

"Ah, no problem, dude!" he said with enthusiasm and a smile before quieting down and his smile turned to its previous frown.

"Everyone dismissed. It was a good week, we got a lot done," the German concluded, dismissing everyone. Everyone knew that they didn't really get much work done, but they didn't care much to argue with it.

All the nations began to chat amongst themselves as they left and signed up. Eliaveta was glad to see so many people willing to participate. It would surely bring them all together doing one thing and that was pretty rare for them. Plus there were hopes of getting the two stubborn English nations together.

"I promise you won't regret signing up! It'll be wonderful!" she exclaimed as everyone left.

* * *

I find it funny

because I don't think any of you guys know what's gonna happen.

So it's funny :3


	17. Early Theatre Drama

14

"To be or not to-"

"Really, Arthur? Really?"

"Whot?" the British man asked, looking over and dropping his pose.

"That is the cheesiest line ever. It's like you tried to find the cheesiest of the cheesiest lines. I know you like Shakespeare, but come on," the Hungarian said with a sigh. "Do you want the main role or not?" she asked, giving him a small smile.

"Yes, I do. Whot do you want me to do, then? You have no bloody scripts!" he asked with a glare. "There were no scripts and there were auditions. So technically I could have auditioned by showing off my book collection if I wanted, but I spared you," he said, scowl set.

"Calm down, don't drop your British scones in the fire. Feli is getting the scripts right now," she informed.

Arthur huffed at the saying and rolled his eyes internally at the nickname for Feliciano. What was it with people in the bloody nicknames? He remembered when he used to call America 'Meri for short and in return, America called him Iggy (A habit which happened to have stuck, unfortunately)…but that was different. He was a child and adults did that kind of thing with them.

Ludwig gave a big sigh from the left and they looked over. "You gave HIM the task of printing things?" he asked rhetorically.

Eliaveta just giggled. "Yes, why do you ask?"

The German didn't answer, but he got up from his chair and hurried away, mumbling something about dumkolfs. He went right, following the sound of distant humming and the faint smell of marinara that seemed to always linger wherever the upbeat nation went.

Back in the audition room, aka the meeting room where the table was pushed against the wall, they all waited. Arthur looked over at the French-Canadian couple with their hands interlocked and wondered how Francis could be more loyal than Eliaveta…

He pushed the thought away and scanned the room to see who actually stayed for the blasted event they were hosting. America always had to make things difficult…of course, he would never admit that it was his reluctance and stubbornness that got him into this.

Spain, Seychelles, Ukraine, China, Greece…

Deeply concentrated, he jumped when the door to the room burst open and a cry from Feliciano filled the room. He cringed.

"I'm sorry, Germany! I didn't mean to! Really! It ran out of ink and I tried to replace it!" he cried as the German set him down from his position on his shoulder.

…

Once they got the Italian to quiet down and everyone had a script, they started over.

"Okay, Alfred, you're up," the hungarian announced as said American walked into the large empty space. He brought a chair, mainly because he was too lazy and tired. He knew he was going to get the part no matter what, but he was really nervous all night.

He sat in the chair and smiled. "I'm so gonna get the best role with my awesome acting skills!" he announced confidentally.

Gilbert snorted. "Whatever. Mine are way awesomer," he retorted.

Eliaveta sighed, getting both of their attention. "Just begin. I'm not in a good mood and a frying pan is within reach," she threatened.

They both shut up.

Alfred sat in the chair and scanned the front page. He didn't really need to look at it anymore. He was going to take this play seriously. It's his one chance to say and do everything he had always wanted to to England and he wasn't going to screw it up.

After a minute, Eliaveta rose a questioning eyebrow. "Ready?" she asked.

"Alfred, you're over three hundred years old and have been the center of attention at almost every gathering ever. Don't tell me you're freezing up because of stage fright," the Briton complained.

"All right, all right. Geez…"

He cleared his throat and put the script on the ground in front of him. He slouched forward, forearms resting on his thighs and looked down. The light atmosphere began to be weighed down.

He let out a weak, almost mocking laugh. "It's funny. People always admire how amazing someone can be without even realizing how fucked up they really are." He began in a dark tone.

The whole room was silent now. Everyone was either really impressed with the acting or really creeped out by it.

"How can people be so blind to all the lies, the secrets, the facades people put up? Nobody realizes you could be living a thousand lies that cover up what you really feel and who you really are…

His tone grew shaky and angry; frustrated, even. "I want people to see the real me, I want my brother to be proud of me, but no matter what I do, it's never good enough!"

He continued his scripted rant, even going as far as the stand up and pretending to throw objects. When Eliaveta told him to stop, he sat back down and everyone clapped. Alfred returned to his cheery self.

Others auditioned, but Arthur didn't pay much attention. Ludwig and Feliciano did it together, mainly because Feliciano was scared and the poor German looked like he just wanted to go home already.

Peter walked up and, suddenly, Arthur was on his feet.

"Excuse me, but may I ask why he is allowed to partake in this? He is far too young." He asked politely, although he was dying to insult the twat.

"I want to be the play with you! Anyone can audition, remember?" the boy said with a big smile on his face.

Arthur gave him the glare of death, which seemed to frighten the smaller nation quite a bit.

Alfred smirked. "Come on, dude, give the kid a chance."

"He's right, Arthur, no matter how much you don't like it," Eliaveta said, giving him an apologetic smile.

His glare never faltered as he sat back down and let the child go on.

He did a decent job, he had to admit, but he wasn't against him auditioning. It was just Peter himself. He was annoying. ((i.e. we all have that one person, admit it))

Roderich, unnecessarily had to audition for the musical background. Eliaveta wanted everyone's opinion on the music she had chosen.

"All the pieces are from around the world, so hopefully you all will like them," she said. "and if you don't like one, speak up so you don't rip your hair out every rehearsal when it's played," she permitted.

"You never did look good with that bald spot," the Prussian joked.

"It was Roddy's fault!" she defended.

"Well, maybe if you would appreciate music more and would have told me it annoyed you…"

"Oh please, you would have just played louder."

"I'm not that childish," Roderich defended, making a distinct 'hmph' sound as he crossed his arms.

"Actually, you are. All you do is sit at your totally unawesome piano with a stick up your ass," the Prussian argued.

"And all you do is sit around, flirting with my wife!" he huffed.

.

"Actually, for your information, your innocent little wife is da-"

The Prussian fell to the floor as Eliaveta looked at him angrily, frying pan in her hand.

Everybody watched silently. Arthur winced at the close call. Drama in the theatre was not what he wanted. Nobody wanted drama, actually.

"…"

"…What was he going to say?" the Austrian asked.

"I don't know. I just hit him to get you two to shut up," she lied.

He turned to his piano and gave her a disbelieving glance before beginning the first piece.

Everyone sat around for twenty minutes, listening to every piece. They honestly didn't care, but when a song from their country began to play, they perked up a bit. Some watched as the Hungarian dragged Gilbert away with a little amusement. Arthur frowned.

When it was over, they all said they didn't mind any of the pieces and left, leaving the Austrian-Hungarian couple alone.

It was quiet for a while before Roderich spoke up. "What was he going to say, Elizabeta?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the piano in front of him.

"Nothing. I'm sure, whatever he was going to say, was just to get to you. You know him," she said, fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Whatever. Just go tend to your boyfriend. The bump on his head will get worse if you don't. I would know," he said stiffly, a cold aura surrounding him.

"What?" she asked, slightly taken aback.

"You really thought I didn't notice how you sometimes smell like his cologne? Or when he whispers to you from his little phony nation table at meetings. I can read lips, you know, and clues," he said, his usual snobbish voice making him just seem annoyed with something. He crossed his arms, waiting for a response.

"I…why didn't you say anything before, then?" she asked with a stoic expression.

"I thought I should give you a little fun. I am a boring husband, after all," he said in a mocking tone.

"Roddy-"

"I'm leaving. I do not want to discuss this any further," he said as he got up and left without another word.

She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. "...okay..." she whispered, looking down. A few minutes later, she walked out of the large room silently.

In the hall, she bumped into Feliciano. "Huh? Hello, Liz~ You loks sad," he said, frowning cluelessly.

She glanced up and gave him a small smile. "You were such a cute child," she said randomly, hugging him tightly.

"Hey, you wnt some pasta~?" he asked. She nodded, smiling a little more. Some time with him could cheer her up...maybe.

...

Roderich got up from his bed, not really knowing what to do. The pain was still fresh, and no piece of music could describe the deepness of his pain. He decided that drinking was probably the best solution, so he headed to the bar where he unsurprisingly found his frienemy, Vash.

The Switz looked over at him from his seat. "What are you doing here?"

"Long story."

They both knew that at that moment, Roderich's life had completely fell apart. Vash just sighed. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, reluctant although his kindness told him it was the right thing to do.

Roderich nodded slowly and took a seat beside him.

"So, what? Did that Prussian tear you a new one or what?" he asked, taking a drink of his...whatever it was he was drinking.

"Well..."

...

When the tragic news of Eliaveta and Roderich reached Francis, Matthew had a hard time cheering him up.

Francis sighed dramatically. "I can't keep up with all of this romance and drama. Everyone is suddenly getting together, and then our one independent couple splits," he whined.

Matthew, being part of the PPP ((pairing people plan)), understood the other's frustration. He knew it took a toll on his lover and wanted to help him, but that was impossible unless he was able to program brains or something ridiculous and unrealistic.

"Hm...how about we make a chart," he suggested. The Frenchman's face lit up.

"You are a genius, mon cher!" he exclaimed.

After an hour, they had managed to gather pictures of every one of the countries and attach magnets onto them. They made a simple three-column table with a single column and a couple T chart. The T chart was labeled with 'uke' and 'seme'.

Francis gave a satisfied smirk. "We still have a lot of work to do," he murmured, looking at the top of the chart where Arthur and Alfred had a huge star on top of them.

* * *

Hey, guys. I'm back after four months! /hides from things being thrown at me

School is finally out and my dad fixed my computer, so I'm back and I swear I will finish this story this summer!


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